


Singing Trees

by aescrof



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst, Canon Era, Fluff, M/M, Magic Revealed, barely any though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-03-12 17:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 65,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13551852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aescrof/pseuds/aescrof
Summary: Arthur knew about the magic from the start.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Merlin or its characters. Some of the dialogue in this is straight from the show, other than that it's just words I put together in my brain box. For the geography and distances I used this awesome, awesome resource by versaphile: archiveofourown.org/works/1037453?view_full_work=true

Arthur grit his teeth against the pain as he limped on through the woods, every step jarring the arrowhead wedged in his calf. He’d snapped off the shaft but didn’t want to risk removing it entirely in case he bled out. On the other hand if he didn’t find his way back to his men soon it wouldn’t make any difference. He could feel the blood pooling in the heel of his boot where it leaked steadily from the wound, the scrap he’d torn from his cape long since soaked through.

They hadn’t been expecting any trouble this far into the woods. Arthur had been leading a border patrol and after a week of riding where the most action he’d seen was breaking up a skirmish between two villagers over a broken gate, he’d declared that they spend the next two days hunting before heading back to the castle. Which was naturally when the bandits attacked.

Arthur wasn’t particularly familiar with the lands near the borders of the Kingdom, but he was certain that if he could just reach the nearest village he would be able to get his bearings and find his way back on his own if it came to it. As he staggered on however, seeing nothing else but trees, trees, and more bloody trees, his determination began to dwindle.

He stopped to rest a moment, trying to focus on anything other than the pain of what felt like a red hot poker sticking out of his leg, and let his eyes slip closed while he concentrated on his breathing. A branch snapped ahead of him and Arthur instinctively fell back into a defensive stance only for his leg to collapse under the strain and with a cry, he dropped like a sack of rocks. Distantly Arthur was aware of rustling footsteps drawing closer but suddenly his ears seemed full of wool and darkness was creeping in to his vision. There was a flash of blue and red and brown that his pain-wracked mind couldn’t make sense of before unconsciousness pulled him under.

\---

Arthur came to gradually, peeling his eyes open one at a time and squinting up at a thatched roof. Well it certainly wasn’t the castle but he supposed he should be somewhat grateful he wasn’t dead. He flinched when his view of the ceiling was suddenly taken up by a grinning face.

“You’re awake! Wait hold on stay right there I’ll get you some water.” The stranger announced before disappearing again.

Arthur felt weak from the blood loss but was relieved to find he had strength enough to lift his head and watch as the boy rushed about the room. He was about to see if he could manage sitting up properly when the boy dropped down next to him with a thud that had Arthur wincing, and a cup was thrust under his chin. He went to reach for it but before he could even bend his elbow, a surprisingly gentle hand was cradling the back of his head and tilting the water carefully into his mouth. He gulped greedily, only realising just how raw his throat had been as it was soothed, and licked his lips once he’d emptied the cup.

“Are you a knight?” Asked the boy. The question seeming to have burst out of him in his excitement.

“Actually I’m...” Arthur trailed off, recalling the fact that he had no idea where he was and as such probably shouldn’t go telling strangers his identity until he had a handle on the situation. The forest he and his men had been hunting in was on the border after all, for all he knew he wasn’t even in Camelot anymore. In which case telling anyone who he was may very well end up with him being held for ransom, or killed... or both.

“Where am I and who are you?” He asked instead.

“Oh sorry! I’m Merlin, what’s your name?”

“Arthur.” He answered automatically, before cursing himself for not giving a false name instead.

“Nice to meet you Arthur.” Merlin grinned. The cheerfulness becoming somewhat off putting. Arthur waited for a response to his first question, raising his eyebrows expectantly when the smiling fool just continued to stare at him. He was about to repeat himself when Merlin finally seemed to catch on.

“Oh right! You’re in my house, well me and my mother’s house. I found you out in the woods unconscious so I brought you here and we fixed up your leg. Will probably be a few days before you’re healed up properly. Where were you headed, the village?”

“The village?”

“Yeah. The closest is Ealdor or were you headed further out?”

“Wait hold on, so where are we _now?”_ Arthur insisted. The wooliness of his head still lingered, making Merlin’s rambling answers even more difficult to get a grip on.

“You’re in me and my mother’s house. I just told you that.”

Of course it would help, Arthur thought, if the boy wasn’t quite so dim.

“I know that Merlin.” He said slowly. “What I want to know is where your _house_ is. Are you saying you live in the middle of the woods?”

Merlin’s smile faded at the patronising tone but before he could respond the sound of the door opening prompted him to jump to his feet. Arthur watched with interest as Merlin headed towards an older woman, relieving her of the buckets of water she was carrying and receiving a tender smile and a peck on the cheek in thanks. This must be the mother Merlin mentioned.

He noticed that streaks of grey ran through her hair where it escaped in tendrils from her cap, which seemed at odds with a still youthful face. Arthur would guess that she was younger than his own father, despite the fact that Merlin couldn’t be that different from himself in age.

The pair muttered quietly to each other before the woman turned to see Arthur not so subtly watching them from the pallet in the corner.

“How are you feeling?” She asked softly, coming to kneel beside him just as Merlin had.

“I am well thank you.” He answered, his tone respectful now that he was addressing a woman.

“We’ve tended to your leg to the best of our ability but I am no physician I’m afraid. You are, of course, welcome to stay with us until it heals completely Sir Knight.”

“That is most gracious of you, and please call me Arthur.” He added, smiling kindly at the woman.

“And I am Hunith, Sir Arthur.”

“The boy mentioned a village nearby.” He said, noting with some amusement how Merlin frowned at being referred to as such. “Am I to take it then that we are still in the woods?”

“Yes Sir, the village is not far but it is just me and my son living out here.”

“Lucky for you Arthur.” Merlin piped up cheerfully.

“Merlin!” Hunith scolded, to which her son just smiled innocently in response and turned back to tending to the fire.

Arthur noticed that her lips twitched even as she turned away to check his bandages, and Arthur fought a smile of his own from forming and returned to staring at the ceiling.

He couldn’t of course, completely disregard the possibility that he might still be in danger. He knew nothing about these people after all, and there was something strange as to why a mother and her son would choose to live way out in the middle of a forest alone. But Arthur felt a kindness in Hunith that told him he was safe under her care.

Worst comes to the worst, he thought cynically, if he had to escape, overpowering a woman and a boy who looked like a strong wind could knock him down would be easy enough once he had his strength back.

Lost in thought, Arthur felt his eyelids beginning to droop and when a spoonful of something warm and thick was held out he mindlessly swallowed it down. The bowl was taken away and a blanket was pulled up to his chin and before he knew it he was asleep once more.

\---

He arose to find it was just him and Merlin in the cottage again. The boy was singing quietly to himself in the corner while he worked his way through the pile of flax heaped next to him. His mind focused on his task as he pulled the long fibres through the heckle and back over and over again. His fingers moving with the ease of years of practice that reminded Arthur of the seamstresses and weavers back in Camelot.

As if sensing the eyes on him Merlin looked up and smiled when he caught Arthur’s gaze.

“Are you hungry?”

“Starving.” Arthur said, only realising how true it was once he’d said it.

Merlin hopped up and headed over to the fire pit, ladling stew into a bowl. Arthur was pleased to note that he was recovered enough to sit up without help and took the bowl with a grateful smile.

It dropped however when he looked down and saw what was in it. A lumpy grey brown sludge with a few green veins that Arthur would hesitate to guess were probably once cabbage leaves. He looked up, fully expecting to be met with laughter from Merlin who must have been playing some kind of joke, after all he couldn’t possibly expect Arthur to eat _this_ , he was a prince for goodness sake! The younger boy wasn’t even looking at him however, having resumed his seat in the corner with the flax.

Arthur looked around the room desperately trying to spot some bread to go with it at the very least, and failing that contemplated how he might dump it out of the window without his host noticing.

“Are you a man?”

Arthur jumped, having not realised Merlin was watching him. It took a moment for the question to sink in but when it did he scowled in indignation.

“What kind of a question is that!” Arthur spluttered.

“Are you, Arthur, a man?” Merlin repeated calmly.

“Of course I’m a man!”

“You sure you’re not a bird, or a wolf perhaps?”

“Merlin what _are_ you talking about?”

“Then there is no reason for you to refuse to eat your breakfast then.” He snapped, marching over and shoving the untouched bowl of pottage into Arthur’s hands before sitting back with his arms crossed and watching him expectantly.

Arthur gaped at the boys sheer impropriety but Merlin refused to back down, even going so far as to raise an eyebrow in a way that was unexpectedly reminiscent of the Royal Physician, and so Arthur turned back to consider his so called ‘breakfast’.

He couldn’t help the curl of his lip at the thick beige slop in front of him, but when Merlin cleared his throat impatiently he screwed his eyes shut and forced down a spoonful. It wasn’t that it tasted particularly bad or anything, but rather that it was just so very _bland._ What Arthur wouldn’t give for a piece of venison right now...

Merlin didn’t move until the bowl was completely empty and Arthur rolled his eyes at the smug smile he was wearing when at last he got up to fetch him a cup of water.

Really Arthur knew he should be more angry that a peasant should dare treat one of his betters in such a way. Even though Merlin and his mother didn’t know he was royalty they still thought him a knight after all. But there was something about Merlin that made his impudence more amusing than anything else.

Once he’d finished with the water he expected Merlin to return to the heckle but instead he sat cross-legged beside Arthur and grinned as he had done the evening before.

“Are you a knight of Camelot then?”

“What makes you say that?”

“You were wearing a red cape, that’s Camelot colours. You’re not from Essetir anyway.”

“Oh?” Arthur smirked at Merlin’s confident tone, then frowned as he realised what that meant. “Wait are we in Essetir then?”

“Yes but don’t worry. The Essetir knights never come here anymore, nobody does actually.”

“You mean you don’t make a habit of taking in rogue men wandering the woods then?”

Arthur was only joking but was taken aback when Merlin flinched in response.

“No, no— not really.”

There was a moment of awkward silence when neither one could look at the other before Arthur thought of something to break it.

“Where’s your mother?”

“She went to the village to trade. She won’t be back until dinner.” Merlin answered gratefully. “Will you tell me about Camelot?”

Arthur smiled, knowing _this_ was a topic of conversation that could last him all day if it needed to. He described the town and the castle, waxing poetic about the sun bouncing off the white stone walls until the whole place shone like a precious stone amongst the trees. He talked about the people and how hundreds travelled in and out of the city each day so there were always new faces to be found, a fact that Arthur was amused to note made Merlin’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.

They passed much of the day that way, pausing occasionally for Merlin to fetch water and wood. Every now and then he’d pipe up with more questions and comments but was otherwise content to sit in his corner and listen as Arthur talked himself hoarse.

By the time dusk was falling he’d just about run out of things to say. He’d yet to put too much weight on his leg but when Merlin had rewrapped his bandages at midday he was shocked to see that the jagged wound carved out by the arrowhead had already scabbed over. Arthur was surprised to find he had mixed feelings about healing so quickly. On the one hand the sooner he could walk properly the sooner he could return to Camelot, where his knights and father were no doubt waiting and worrying over their lost prince by now. On the other hand, he couldn’t help thinking that strange as it was, today with Merlin he’d had what was probably the most enjoyable conversation he’d had in ages.

Hunith arrived just as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Her arms were empty and Arthur, recalling what Merlin had mentioned about trading, frowned in concern at the thought of some kind of misfortune befalling her that she should come home with nothing. He was ready to ask and if necessary, make some noble promise of retribution on Hunith’s behalf, when he noticed that neither Hunith or Merlin looked at all disconcerted. Indeed Merlin who had up until that point seemed to be nodding off in the corner, jumped up with such enthusiasm he nearly tripped over his own feet.

“Did you see Will?”

“Yes Merlin I saw Will.” Hunith answered readily, clearly having expected the question. “And before you pepper me with any more questions, you know you’ll see him soon enough so you can ask them all then.”

Merlin’s mouth was left hanging open from where his mother had interrupted but he shut it to pout jokingly in response before giving her a dramatic peck on the forehead that made them both chuckle.

They’d all settled down and had eaten supper – to Arthur’s dissatisfaction more pottage – and were contemplating turning in for the night when Arthur noticed Merlin singing quietly to himself. It was the same tune he’d been humming when he’d woken up that morning, but Arthur didn’t recognise the tongue the lyrics were in.

_Idir ann is idir as,_

_Idir thuaidh is idir theas..._

For all that he couldn’t understand the words Arthur found himself mesmerised and a shiver ran up his spine.

Merlin seemed to hardly be aware that he was singing at all. His eyes were glazed over as he rolled out his bedding next to his mother’s, in a way that Arthur would usually dismiss as tiredness, but for one reason or another discomfited him.

“Where did you learn that song?” Arthur asked once things had been quiet for a minute or two. Barely speaking above a whisper for reasons he wasn’t entirely sure of.

“The river taught me.” Came the answer just as quiet.

In the silence of the house Hunith’s gasp seemed too loud but Arthur was too thrown by Merlin’s strange response to wonder at it. Turning his head he saw that Merlin’s eyes were now closed, his chest rising and falling in the soft rhythms of sleep. Beyond him Hunith lay with her back facing them and Arthur idly noticed the tension in it. His last thoughts were all ones of confusion as he followed Merlin into sleep.

\---

The tap, scrape, and flick of the Whetstone against the blade, Arthur thought to himself, was one of his favourite sounds in the world. The familiarity of the motions never failing to soothe him.

His third day laid up and Arthur had been starting to feel twitchy. He’d never felt comfortable being idle for too long a stretch. As it was Merlin had spent most of the day outside tending the garden and patching the roof so they couldn’t even chat like they had the day before. Thankfully Hunith had taken pity on him and politely asked if he wouldn’t mind sharpening a few tools when he wasn’t resting, and Arthur had jumped at the chance to be doing _something_ productive.

Each time she noticed he was nearing the bottom of the pile Hunith would silently add a few more, offering Arthur an indulgent smile as she returned the freshly sharpened tools back to their rightful places. By mid-afternoon however Arthur had made his way through the lot and decided to turn his attention to his sword.

It was a peaceful scene in the cottage at that moment. Merlin had finished his chores and was now sat at his mother’s feet holding the distaff while Hunith spun the flax on her spindle. It was in contrast to that morning when Arthur had woken up to the pair arguing, albeit in whispers. He couldn’t hear what the argument was about, and was hardly about to ask, but from the body language it seemed as if Hunith had been chastising her son for something and Merlin was trying to defend his actions.

Even when Merlin became particularly passionate about a point, made all the more dramatic when a gust of wind made the fire flare and for a second Arthur admired how the reflection painted Merlin’s eyes gold, he couldn’t help but notice the affection underlying everything.

It was unlike any of the arguments he’d had with his own father, where each interaction was as much between the King and the Prince as between a father and his son. Or even like his many slanging matches with Morgana, always full of sarcastic and cutting remarks.

Even now the differences were clear as afterwards Arthur had come to expect a tension with the King and cold indifference from Morgana for at least a couple of days, and yet here mother and son sat quite happily as if that morning had never taken place.

Arthur knew of course, that his family loved him just as he loved them, even with all the insults and criticism that got thrown around. But a part of him wished it could always be as plain to see as it was between Merlin and Hunith.

The evening continued much the same as the last two had, but with the added bonus of a handful of blackberries after dinner that Merlin presented with a flourish that had Arthur chuckling. Hunith checked his wound again before bed and from the brief glimpse he’d caught before it was re-wrapped, Arthur would swear it was half the size it had been. Something that triggered an uncomfortable thought to niggle at the back of his mind. Unwilling to have his relatively cheerful mood soured he pushed it away for the moment, promising himself that he’d think on it properly in the morning.

\---

“Will!” Merlin shouted, throwing himself into his friends arms with such force they both nearly toppled over.

The boy took it in stride, used to these enthusiastic greetings whenever he visited, and laughed slapping Merlin on the back affectionately.

“Come on then, you nearly made me drop the wool!”

Merlin hopped back apologising and grabbed the second package to carry, grinning all the while. He’d been waiting half way up the path so they could walk back to the cottage together as usual, always thrilled to see his best and only friend.

Will only managed to visit once or twice a month, and for Merlin it was always a highlight when he did. When the boys were younger Merlin would pester his mother, begging to be allowed to visit the village to see his friend more often but she always refused him. He hadn’t understood why at the time but somehow he knew that this was one of those _special_ rules that he must never ever break, like the rule about never telling anyone his secret.

That was one of the main reasons why Will was still allowed to visit after they moved to the cottage, he knew about Merlin’s secret. He was the only one besides his mother who knew about it, and to Merlin’s delight he was even _impressed_ by it. Will was the only one who encouraged him to use his gift and Merlin couldn’t resist showing off a little whenever Will was around.

As they trekked through the forest he let a tendril of magic rustle through the undergrowth, stirring dandelion seeds and blossoms into the air and making them dance in a cloud around the two boys.

“Still up to your old tricks I see.” Will chuckled.

Merlin smiled and shrugged, letting the seeds get carried away and dispersed on the breeze.

“Anything interesting happening in the village?” He asked.

“Not much just the usual you know, getting ready for the hay harvest. Although Rosie had her baby a few weeks ago.”

“Oh great! Mother will be happy to hear that.”

“Yeah but there’s also been some rumours going around that she won’t be so happy to hear.” Will said ominously.

Merlin frowned in concern and nodded for him to continue.

“Some people have said they’ve been seeing knights hanging around. I figure you and Hunith might want to lay low for a while.”

Merlin froze, suddenly remembering he hadn’t yet warned his friend of their new house guest. Will drew up short when he realised Merlin was no longer keeping pace with him and turned to see him biting his lip and sheepishly avoiding eye contact.

“Merlin...” Will started eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

He shuffled on the spot, gaze fixed firmly on his boots as he answered warily.

“Um... I should probably mention that a few days ago I found a man unconscious in the woods. And I might have taken him home to heal him... and he might still be there now.”

Will dreading where this was headed, but anticipating that there was more stayed silent and waited for Merlin to finish.

“... And-he-may-also-be-a-knight-of-Camelot.” He added in a rush.

“Are you insane!” Will yelled. “After what happened last time you picked up a random stranger, seriously? And this one’s a _knight!_ A knight from _Camelot_ no less!”

Merlin flinched at the mention of last time but otherwise didn’t move while Will ranted.

“He was hurt. I couldn’t just leave him to die.” He said quietly. Daring a glance upwards when he heard Will sigh.

His friend’s frown had softened but from the angle of his jaw Merlin could tell he was biting back more tongue-lashing. After another sigh Will carried on walking, letting Merlin know that he’d conceded for now at least.

“So what’s he like then this knight? Arrogant and condescending no doubt.”

“Will, you haven’t even met the man yet.” Merlin rolled his eyes. “And maybe a bit, but he’s alright. He even helped mother sharpen all the tools yesterday.”

“Ha! And by help I bet he just handed them over and let Hunith do all the work.”

“ _No._ It was the other way around actually.” Merlin defended.

The cottage was just visible through the trees now and Merlin stopped again, not sure why but for some reason feeling anxious about introducing his best friend to Arthur.

“Will just... please will you give him a chance. It’s not like he’s going to be here long anyway, his leg will be healed in a few days and then he’ll be on his way.”

“How did he hurt his leg that it’ll heal in less than a week?” Will asked, voice full of scepticism.

“He got shot by an arrow but I might have helped the healing on a bit.”

Merlin struggled to contain his satisfied smile. He felt a shot of pride every time his mother changed Arthur’s bandages and he caught a glimpse of how quickly the wound was knitting itself back together. The night before Merlin was pleased to see it had now been reduced to a slightly jagged line, just a few inches long and while still surrounded by bruises, they were turning yellower by the hour. Arthur had even managed to hobble around the house a few times that morning before breakfast.

“Oh wonderful.” Will said decidedly less happy about it. “So not only did you bring him home with you but you did magic on him as well. For goodness sake Merlin, his king _kills_ people like you!”

“And our king _enslaves_ people like me which is why we live out here and I never get to talk to anyone who isn’t you or mum!” Merlin snapped, then immediately screwed his eyes shut and tried to push down the age old frustration.

He only opened them again when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry Merlin,” Will said quietly. “Let’s go meet this knight of yours eh? I promise I’ll do best behaviour.”

Merlin allowed a small smile to creep back onto his face, laughing when Will responded with his goofiest grin, and carried on the last few stone throws to the cottage.

\---

Arthur was sat on a stool next to Hunith with his leg propped up on a pile of blankets. Having noticed his fingers twitching again, the woman had kindly suggested he hold the distaff for her as Merlin had done the last few nights. It wasn’t exactly labour intensive work but Arthur was happy simply to have his hands occupied, and found there was something hypnotic about watching Hunith spin the fibres. Teasing out the strands until the spindle was brushing the floor, and then winding it up and starting again.

As he had watched her nimble fingers expertly twist and pull the flax, Arthur had let his mind drift back to the elusive Will. From what little he’d picked up from Merlin’s conversations with his mother, he knew Will was someone they traded with as well as a close friend to both of them. Merlin had been buzzing with energy since he woke and when Hunith had finally sent him to meet Will, he’d taken off like a spooked horse.

He perked up when he heard voices outside, recognising one as Merlin he knew the other had to be Will. Arthur had pictured him as a paternal figure, an established craftsmen or a merchant perhaps. Instead walking through the door was another peasant boy, roughly the same age as Merlin with a shaggy head of brown hair and the ruddy complexion and plain, coarse clothes of someone who worked the land to survive.

Arthur was quick to mask his surprise, a lifetime of pompous nobles and simpering courtiers meant he was well versed in hiding his true feelings behind a polite smile. This was not the case with Will it would seem, and Arthur unconsciously squared his shoulders in reaction to the clear judgement aimed his way as the other boy sized him up.

The expression was replaced with a fond smile however when Hunith stood, putting aside the spinning, and gathered him into a warm embrace. Arthur felt an absurd spark of jealousy at the sight but irritably brushed it aside.

“Will, wonderful to see you!”

“You too Hunith.” The boy grinned. “I’ve got two full fleeces for you here as well as a mutton joint.”

“Oh Will you do spoil us!”

“In exchange for the finest linen in the Kingdom, not at all.”

“Finest in all of Albion you mean!” Merlin interrupted, kissing his mother on the cheek which was flushed from the praise.

“Oh away with you.” Hunith chided with a grin of her own. “Now Will, come and sit down and meet our guest Sir Arthur, while I get everyone a drink.”

The men nodded to each other but said nothing as Hunith bustled about trying to find spare cups. Merlin never one for silence began to sing quietly to himself as he rifled through one of the packs Will had carried the wool in.

“Tree or wind?” Will asked nudging Merlin in the side.

“Tree.” Merlin smiled sheepishly. “The big willow by the river. I can show you. Mother, do you need help today or can I show Will the willow?”

Hunith chuckled.

“Alright Merlin but let the boy finish his drink before you start dragging him over hill and vale.”

Merlin thanked his mother and immediately starting talking to Will excitedly about the tree, while Arthur was left befuddled. He managed to catch a few words here and there, including something about a rumble and pop, and singing? The conversation lasted as the pair got up to go again a few minutes later, interrupted briefly when Merlin said goodbye to Hunith promising to be back for dinner, and continued until they were out of earshot. Arthur was left wondering just what he had missed that anyone could be that excited over a simple _tree._

Shortly after they’d left, Hunith had suggested they sit outside and enjoy the fine weather, and Arthur anxious to feel the heat of the sun on his skin again immediately agreed.

“They’ve known each other since they were babe’s.”

The comfortable warmth and quiet had Arthur feeling drowsy but he turned in interest when Hunith began speaking.

“We had to leave the village when the boys were still young but they’ve remained close through the years. It’s good for Merlin to have someone to talk to.”

“He has you.” Arthur pointed out.

“Yes he does.” Hunith smiled. “But there are some things sons won’t share with their mothers.”

Please excuse Will if he seems less than welcoming to you, he’s rather protective of my son and past experiences mean he tends to be suspicious of new faces. And Merlin well... my son has a big heart, and it tends to make him vulnerable.”

Arthur frowned as he considered that. He’d only known these people for a few days but he’d quickly become fond of them. And the idea that someone would take advantage of a kind, friendly, cheeky boy like Merlin had him gritting his teeth in anger. The distrustful air around Will was now easily understandable if Arthur was already feeling protective after a matter of days.

Still there were other things Hunith had mentioned that peaked Arthur’s curiosity. The longer he spent there it seemed, the more questions he had, and yet something was telling him he shouldn’t try asking. He thought of willow trees and a shiver ran up his spine as he remembered another odd answer Merlin had given in response to his singing...

_The river taught me._

\---

Hunith had gone inside to prepare the mutton, and Arthur had to admit that after almost a full week of nothing but grains, vegetables, berries, and if he was lucky fish, the thought of sinking his teeth into meat again made his mouth water. After so long without it, Arthur was willing to bet that the toughest, most gristly joint of beef would taste as succulent as the finest cut of veal right now.

His stomach rumbled ominously and Arthur decided to test the strength of his leg again to take his mind off food. Carefully levering himself up he started experimenting with how much weight he could put on it, shifting back and forth between his good and bad leg until he was satisfied it wasn’t about to buckle.

Arthur had been hobbling about the cottage the last few days but to his frustration, had only managed it as long as he was braced against a wall or the table top. Inspired by his success at standing without assistance however, he determinedly took a step towards the house, his breath catching when his leg began wobbling beneath him immediately.

Unwilling to stop now he’d started Arthur took another step, then another. Sweat was beading on his brow and he had another twenty paces to go to reach the house. The thought of calling out to Hunith for help was enough to make him flush with embarrassment, but the sweat was now stinging his eyes and he realised if he didn’t sit down soon he’d end up face down in the mud.

His gaze locked onto a stump surrounded by uncut firewood much closer and he headed towards it instead. The effort of placing one foot in front of the other meant that the rest of the world faded away. He just had to reach the stump. So determined was he, he didn’t hear Hunith calling his name in warning or notice the ditch in front of him until his foot caught in it and he found himself falling towards the axe. An axe he himself had sharpened a few days before.

He had a brief moment to wonder how Hunith and Merlin would explain a dead prince on their farm when the Knights came looking before his chin collided with wood, and the taste of blood filled his mouth.

Dragging himself up on his elbows it took Arthur a second to acknowledge he was still alive, and then another to understand what he was seeing. Instead of lying wedged, blade up in a notch in the stump just waiting to send unsuspecting princes to an untimely death, the axe was suddenly in the white-knuckled grip of a pale faced Merlin.

If Arthur had any doubt about what just happened, it disappeared along with the flash of gold in Merlin’s terrified eyes. No one moved for what felt like an age then ever so slowly Merlin let his hold slacken, and the axe fell with a thump to the ground in front of him.

The sound spurred him into motion and Arthur staggered back to his feet, shock dulling the pain in his leg.

“Arth—”

“You’re a sorcerer!”

Merlin’s mouth opened and closed as he tried to form words, but no sound escaped him.

“All this time and I thought—and you were...” Arthur trailed off. “Was this your plan? Trick me into trusting you and then what, use me to attack Camelot? Use your _magic_ on me so that I’d help you kill my father and take the throne for yourself!”

Merlin flinched backwards as Arthur spat the words his eyes shining with tears.

“Were you in league with the bandits as well? What, did you tell them to kill my knights but leave me for you was that it?”

“No! Arthur I wouldn’t—”

“Save your breath _sorcerer!_ As if I could trust anything said by a monster like you!” Arthur yelled.

Tears streamed down Merlin’s cheeks and he staggered backwards as though he’d been hit. He shook his head, face twisted in pain. For a moment it looked like he was going to try and say something more but instead he closed his mouth around a sob, then turned and fled into the woods.

The three of them watched him disappear through the trees and then Will turned to face Arthur. The fiery rage in the boys expression took Arthur aback, and for a moment he feared that Will would pick up the discarded axe and swing it at him, instead he felt a fist connect with his jaw and all the breath escaped him as he landed back on the ground. Will dropped to his knees beside him and grabbed Arthur by his shirt.

“How _dare_ you!” He growled. “If anyone’s a monster here it’s you for saying that, or did your ungrateful arse not realise Merlin just _saved your damn life!”_

Yeah he has magic, and he uses it to _help_ people. If it weren’t for Merlin’s magic my whole damn village would have starved after last year’s bad harvest. Whole village full of people Merlin doesn’t even know and he still helped them. Because he’s a good person. The _best_ person I know.”

It’s people like you and _your father_ that mean Merlin and Hunith have to live on their own out here in the first place. People like _you_ are the reason I am Merlin’s _only_ friend. And he still helped you, still saved your life. _Twice_.”

Arthur swallowed at the mention of his father but watched silently as Will stood, and with one last disgusted glare in his direction, headed off after Merlin.

Once the other boy had gone Arthur turned towards Hunith who still hadn’t made a sound. The woman was watching him warily with a hand clasped over her mouth, tears running silently down her face. Her eyes were wide and frightened and the resemblance between her and her son had Arthur wanting to look away.

The shock eventually wore off enough for Hunith to help Arthur inside, though her steps were jerky and stiff and Arthur was too numb to help much. They were sat at opposite ends of the room in dead silence now, and it occurred to Arthur that even the woods had gone quiet as if the life in the forest had fled along with Merlin. Hunith’s tortured whisper made him flinch.

“Please don’t hurt my baby.” She begged. “He’s a good boy. He’s all I have.”

Arthur said nothing.

“I brought him here to be safe. Please let him be safe.”

He clenched his jaw harder until the bone creaked.

“He deserves better than I can give him. Please don’t take even that away. Don’t take my baby away. Please...”

The words drifted away and the cottage was filled with nothing but the sound of a terrified mother’s quiet weeping.

Arthur lay down on his pallet and pretended his own eyes weren’t even a little wet.

\---

Some hours after dark Arthur was roused from a light doze by a quiet whimper. Merlin, it seemed had finally come back and was now crying in his mother’s arms. Arthur kept his eyes closed and tried to shut out the pitiful noises without much success.

“I-I’m a m-monster.”

“ _No_ Merlin. You’re my sweet, kind boy—”

“That’s why they h-hate me.”

“Oh Merlin.”

“Because I _am._ I’m a _—”_

“No Merlin, don’t think that. _Never_ think that.”

“They hate me. _He_ hates me.”

“He just doesn’t understand.”

“I don’t want to be a monster. I don’t want to be a monster...”

“Hush my boy. I’m right here. It’ll be OK.”

Hunith continued whispering comfort, never wavering though her voice was rough with tears until Merlin fell into an exhausted sleep in her arms. She didn’t let go as she manoeuvred them both under the blankets, keeping her son safe in her embrace for as long as she could.

Arthur’s mind was racing as he tried to fit everything he’d witnessed with what he knew. Magic was dangerous, evil and corrupt. His father had brought him up on stories of the purge that demonstrated this all too well. Time and time again he’d been warned that magic would always be used to strike at the heart of Camelot, and those that used it should be dealt with swiftly and without mercy. And yet...

He was assaulted suddenly by a memory of childhood, and the kind old woman who sat in the marketplace. The storyteller they called her. His nurse maid and a guard would escort him into town while his father was working, it was the only time he saw other children until Morgana showed up. He remembered how they would all gather around the storyteller’s feet as she spun her tales, totally wrapped up in the story. He remembered the stories, full of magical creatures and days long past, full of colour and beauty. He remembered how he’d once wanted to meet the Faerie queen herself, how for a time he’d even risked putting out a saucer of milk until his father had caught him and told him cats were not to be kept as pets.

He remembered how one day the storyteller wasn’t there anymore. He remembered how the nurse maid had looked at him with pity when he asked about it. And he remembered how he didn’t ask again.

Arthur hadn’t thought of such things in a long time, long having dismissed it as childish foolishness. But now he found himself starting to wonder. He thought of Hunith pleading for her son, and Will defending his friend. The love they had for Merlin was obvious in the strength of their emotions, but that wouldn’t be the case if he was evil would it?

And then there was Merlin himself to consider. If he truly was evil why was he so hurt by Arthur’s words? Why would he risk his life here in the woods with his mother by taking in a Camelot knight, a perfect stranger and nursing him back to health? Why save a man who was sworn to uphold the laws of a King who would see him dead?

If his father was right about magic, then Merlin had to die. The thought made Arthur feel sick. But if his father was wrong... he had no idea where to go from there.

Arthur didn’t manage to fall asleep for a long while with that thought in mind.

\---

Arthur woke up the next morning to a bowl of cold mutton stew for breakfast. He levered himself upright slowly, trying not to aggravate his leg which had flared up after the activities the day before.

Hunith was awake and busy tying threads onto the loom, but made no sign that she was aware of Arthur’s movements. He wondered if she was ignoring him. The fact that instead of handing him the bowl as she had done since his first morning here, it had instead been sitting next to his pallet certainly suggested she was trying to avoid interacting with him, and Arthur was surprised to realise how upset that thought made him. Not that it wasn’t justified after the state Merlin had been in last night because of what Arthur had said.

He finished his stew and set it to one side, darting a glance in Hunith’s direction who still paid him no mind, and noticed Merlin was still lying asleep with his back to the room. Arthur took in the long lean lines of the boy, so still in sleep in a way he never seemed to be while awake. He didn’t seem relaxed though, his shoulders were hunched up around his ears and his knees were tucked up to his chest. It almost looked like he was waiting to be attacked at any time, even in his sleep. He knew this newfound defensiveness was because of him and for a moment Arthur hated himself for it. Still it made him wonder.

He knew Merlin had to be reasonably powerful, after all Will had claimed he’d saved a whole village from starvation by himself, though he hadn’t explained how. It was clear Merlin also had reflexes that a knight would be proud of, considering how quickly he must have acted to save Arthur from falling on the axe. As the morning passed in silence however and Merlin spent it tucked into a corner, gaze skating towards Arthur regularly but being careful not to meet his eyes directly, Arthur had to wonder why if Merlin possessed such power, he seemed so _scared_.

Surely if he chose to, Merlin could kill him in an instant, before Arthur could contemplate standing up even. But now that he thought about it Arthur couldn’t remember a single time in the week past he’d ever felt that Merlin was a threat, or even hostile. Even on that first day when he’d been strategizing potential escape plans in his head, he’d thought of him mostly as an obstacle. And yesterday when he’d realised what the golden glow in Merlin’s eyes meant, it wasn’t fear he’d felt but disbelief and anger and confusion. In fact the only hostility he’d experienced came from Will which hadn’t been malicious but protective.

Noon came and went and still no one had said a word. It had been drizzling all day but the clouds were dark with the promise of a storm, as if the sky was reacting to the strained, miserable atmosphere in the cottage. Finally Hunith got to her feet and swept her hair up into a cap, picked up a cloak that was folded over a stool and announced she was going for more firewood before the rain came.

“Mother I can do—”

“No Merlin, you stay and rest. I’ll only be a short while.” Hunith soothed her son, affectionately brushing his hair back from his forehead.

She hesitated with her hand on the door and glanced warily back at Arthur, who tried his best to look reassuring in return, before she stepped outside and the sound of her footsteps faded away.

Arthur could feel Merlin watching him and heard him finally shuffle out of his corner. He kept as still as possible as though Merlin were a woodland creature who would startle and flee at the smallest noise. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Merlin settle by the fire and start to stoke the flames and the question popped out without Arthur realising it.

“Why don’t you use your magic?”

Arthur imagined he looked as startled as Merlin for a split second before he schooled his features into an expression of what he hoped was neutral curiosity.

The question had surprised Merlin into meeting his eyes at last, though once he realised he blushed and stared at the fire instead.

“I just don’t...” He mumbled.

Arthur hadn’t really expected him to answer but another question, a bigger question, was already on the tip of his tongue.

“Could you... could you show me?” He asked quietly, his heartbeat speeding up.

“Why, so you can cut my head off?” Merlin snapped, though Arthur was disturbed to hear a hint of resignation in his tone.

“ _No!_ No I just...” He trailed off. “I haven’t really seen that much magic before so I guess I was just... curious.”

Merlin risked meeting his eyes once more before looking at the sparks rising from the top of the flames. He mouthed the word _curious_ to himself once and licked his lips, leaning forwards slightly.

Arthur’s breath caught as Merlin’s eyes glowed and immediately the sparks began to gather to form the shape of a dragon, roughly the size of a palm. The little dragon swooped over the fire pit, somersaulted twice then plunged back into the flames with a crackle.

Arthur stared wide-eyed at the spot it had disappeared into then looked back at Merlin who’s mouth was turned up at the corners in a small satisfied smile. Arthur felt himself mirroring it.

“Wow.” He whispered in awe.

Merlin came back to himself and switched to looking at the floor, blushing again. Arthur tried to suppress a grin, the display of magic making him feel oddly giddy. Merlin looked up through his eyelashes to gauge Arthur’s reaction and seeing him grinning, offered a hopeful smile of his own.

“Have you really never seen magic before?” He asked quietly.

“Certainly nothing like that. Who taught you?” Merlin looked unsure and Arthur hastened to add. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“No it’s not that! It’s just... no one taught me. It just sort of happens.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I was born like this. I don’t know any spells or anything I just sort of think it and it happens. Mother says I was moving objects about before I could talk.”

Arthur had never heard of such a thing, but then a disturbing thought arose.

“You can control it now though, right?”

“Of course I can!” Merlin answered indignantly.

“So you choose to use it?”

“I choose when and how but I have to use magic sometimes.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked again, stomach sinking as a shadow seemed to pass over Merlin’s face.

“You’re not the first stranger we took in Arthur.”

Arthur frowned at the seemingly random subject change, but Merlin’s sorrowful tone prevented him from saying anything.

“There was a man who sheltered with us once.” He began. “Just for the night. He said he’d gotten robbed and had lost his way so mother let him stay.”

We hadn’t been here that long, a year at most and I was just a kid, and that night after supper he saw me playing. I was making pictures in the smoke, animals and flowers... He asked me if I could do other things with my magic. He didn’t seem scared, in fact he seemed excited like Will was when he found out... so I showed him more of what I could do.”

But then I woke up the next morning and he was arguing with my mother. He said he wanted to take me away. He said if he took me to a King the King would give my mother riches and she wouldn’t have to live in the forest any more. Mother said no but he wouldn’t listen. He got angry and he started yelling. Mother started shouting and crying and the man tried to drag me away from her. And I was scared, I was just so scared so I used my magic. I only meant to push him away but I couldn’t control it yet. I threw him away from me and his head cracked open. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I was just scared but I never wanted...”

The words that had been coming thick and fast cut off abruptly. Tears were rolling down Merlin’s cheeks, his eyes glassy and distant as he got lost in the awful memory. It felt like a long time before Merlin continued haltingly.

“After that I didn’t want to use my magic any more. Not for anything. But I started to get sick. The longer I went without using magic the sicker I got.” He turned to Arthur then with an expression that urged him to understand. “Magic is part of me. I need it as much as I need food and drink to survive. I can go without it for a time but eventually I would die.”

Arthur swallowed, a cold weight had settled on his chest as he desperately tried to put aside the thought of Merlin pale and still—too still.

“Mother begged me to use it, she held me in her arms and cried. Telling me it wasn’t my fault. Saying it would all be alright, that she’d keep me safe.” Arthur flinched at the familiar words. “I’ve never been able to bear seeing her so unhappy. So I made a butterfly to make her smile. And it worked. I’ve never gone more than a couple days without using magic since then.”

Arthur gaped, for a moment he felt an absurd urge to wrap his arms around Merlin and never let go. He had always been taught that magic was something sorcerer’s chose, something they had to learn and practice. But if, as he was beginning to understand, this wasn’t always the case... then how many people like Merlin had been killed under his father’s law for something they couldn’t help. How many had had to go into hiding, abandoning their homes and loved ones in the process. How many innocent people had Arthur delivered to the executioner himself. A wave of grief and shame swept through him.

“I’m sorry for what you’ve been through Merlin.” He said sincerely. “And I’m sorry, for what I said to you. Especially since I owe you my life.”

Merlin looked shocked and then considering. After a long silent moment he started to smile.

“Well you could let me have your share of the mutton leftover from yesterday and I might just forgive you.” He teased, and just like that the tension between them broke.

\---

The sky opened that evening and the rains lasted all of the following day. The three of them spent it huddled together around the fire, wrapped up in layers of blankets. Merlin had been twitchy since he woke up, gnawing at his thumb and only responding to questions after they’d been repeated twice. Arthur nudged him with an elbow.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Hm? Oh it’s nothing. I’m just a bit worried about the rain.”

Hunith passed each of them a cup of warm watery ale, wrapping her hands round hers to warm them up.

“It’ll be alright Merlin.” She said. “They’ve weathered worse than this.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow in question.

“Will and Ealdor.” Hunith explained. “The path floods and blocks us off from the village.”

Arthur nodded, understanding. It was a problem they’d faced many times in Camelot. Too much rain led to flooding, mudslides, and destroyed buildings. All of which could be deadly and had consequences that spread to the rest of the Kingdom. The patrols sent out to help were often obstructed, and that was only if the messengers managed to reach the castle in the first place. Sometimes it wasn’t until weeks later that they found out how many had been lost to the storm. Arthur always felt guilty that he was not able to protect his people, even if rationally he knew there was little he could do when it came to warding against nature.

“These are beautiful blankets Hunith.” Arthur tried to lighten the mood. “Did you make them yourself?”

Hunith smiled, clearly grateful for his efforts.

“Thank you Prince Arthur, and yes I did. With Merlin’s help.”

“I just wash the wool, mother does all the weaving.” Merlin protested.

“And if the wool wasn’t washed I couldn’t weave now could I?” Hunith teased and Merlin rolled his eyes but did finally start to relax.

“Hey Merlin.” Arthur remembered something. “What was all that nonsense about a tree the other day?”

“You mean what I was talking about with Will?”

“Yes, surely you can’t be that excited about a _tree_. But the way you were carrying on made it sound like it was made of solid gold or something.” Arthur scoffed.

Merlin narrowed his eyes.

“It’s not made of gold, it’s something much better. But I wouldn’t expect _you_ to understand.”

“Try me.” Arthur challenged.

“It’s a singing tree.”

“A singing... tree.” Arthur repeated in his most sardonic tone. “Hunith I think you may not have watered the ale enough, I fear if your son has any more he’ll be dancing on the table before long.”

Merlin scowled while Hunith chuckled but said nothing, leaving the boys to their bickering.

“I am not drunk you prat! Lots of trees have songs, so do rivers and mountains and the wind. You’re probably just too busy being a dollop-head to hear them!”

“That’s not even a word!”

“Yes it is.”

“Define ‘dollop-head’.”

“In two words?”

“Yes.”

“Prince Arthur.”

The pair glared at each other for a moment then burst out laughing. Hunith shook her head fondly and went back to her loom.

“You know you really shouldn’t address me like that.” Arthur pointed out. Merlin shrugged.

“I don’t see why not. I’ve already used magic on you after all.”

“Wait when did you use it on...” Arthur smiled as he put the pieces together. “My leg, that’s why it’s healing so fast isn’t it?”

Merlin shrugged again.

“Thank you.” Said Arthur sincerely.

Merlin blushed.

“Well it won’t make much difference if the rain doesn’t stop soon. When the path floods we can’t reach the village or the road so you might be stuck with us for a while longer.”

Oddly that thought didn’t bother Arthur much. He knew he needed to return to Camelot, that he had duties and responsibilities as the Prince. At the very least he needed to let his father know he was still alive. But with all the revelations and everything he’d learned in the past few days, Arthur figured he needed as much time as he could get to decide what he should _do_ with all this newfound knowledge. Things couldn’t go back to the way they were before, that much was obvious, but beyond that he hadn’t a clue.

If nothing else, Arthur felt happy here. Free in a way he never really was in the castle. Camelot was his home and he missed her, but things had to change. And Arthur wasn’t sure if he could do it all alone.

“That’s fine with me. You’re not completely terrible company I suppose.”

Merlin snorted but Arthur happily took note of the pleased smile playing on his lips.

\---

The rains had stopped by the next day, but as they’d feared when Merlin had gone to check, the path had not only been flooded but blocked by fallen trees.

Hunith had assured Arthur that they’d be able to clear the way once the water had drained enough. Or as Merlin put it – stopped being a boggy death trap for Arthur to lose his princely head in.

It took a week to do so however, but by that time Arthur was walking on his own again. Though it would be a while before he was back to his usual fighting fit status. He was champing at the bit to get out of the cottage either way, so by the time Merlin got up to do his daily check of the path, Arthur was already halfway out the door.

The earth was still spongy in places, mud sucking at their boots where the leafy canopy blocked out most of the sunlight. The trees were packed much closer together this far into the woods, and for the first time Arthur was able to appreciate just how difficult it must have been for Hunith all these years. To bring her child out here and try to carve out a life for just the two of them, hiding away from a world of people who wanted to hurt her son.

He’d brought it up one evening when Merlin had retired while his mother and Arthur had stayed up a while longer. Hunith had been quiet at first but eventually explained. She told Arthur how after news reached Cenred of Uther’s purge, the King had sent out word to anyone with magic that they would be welcomed and protected in the Kingdom of Essetir. Of course he hadn’t done so out of any notion such as honour or good will, but because he wanted Camelot for his own – something Arthur and his father were well aware of – and an army of sorcerer’s would go a long way towards helping him get it.

Most sorcerer’s knew of Cenred’s reputation, saw the offer for what it was and instead fled to other Kingdoms or found shelter with the druid people. However some out of desperation or a need for vengeance, came forward only to quickly find themselves being enslaved, exploited, and brainwashed until they were no more than a living weapon for the King to use as he wanted.

As if that wasn’t enough, the King then turned to his own people. He offered false promises to families that any loved ones with magic would have a better life in the castle, that their children would be taught to read and write. He offered rewards to anyone that reported a sorcerer to his knights. Anyone accused was dragged kicking and screaming from their homes and taken for ‘testing’.

For Arthur such stories were painfully familiar. Though in his father’s tales the suffering was always justified as necessary for the greater good of the Kingdom, and the sorcerer’s brought it on themselves.

Hunith had left Ealdor to protect her son, and told only her closest friend where to find them – Will’s mother. With her help Hunith built the cottage hidden deep in the woods, and when she died during a bad winter four years ago, Will chose to stay in Ealdor and take up the mantle as the little family’s only link to the outside.

They finally reached the fallen tree blocking the path. An old beech that from the bark-bare trunk and fungus looked like it was dying even before the storm knocked it down.

“So do you move it with your magic then?”

Merlin grimaced.

“No, mother doesn’t like me using my magic for this stuff. Apparently when we still lived in the village I used it to chop down a tree once and nearly crushed an old man.” He shrugged sheepishly.

“I thought you were a child when you left?”

“I was.”

“And you tried to chop down a tree on your _own?_ ”

“Mhm.”

“Only you Merlin.” Arthur laughed. “So how do we move this then? We can’t lift it just the two of us.”

Merlin clambered on top of it and peered out into the marshy woodland either side of them.

“I reckon if we cut it in half, then the weight should pull each side out of the way. Then we just have to hope there aren’t any more problems further up.” He announced, dropping back down and wiping his muddy hands on his trousers.

“Good idea.”

“No need to sound so surprised.” Merlin snorted.

Arthur hesitated, he was enjoying being outside just the two of them and wasn’t ready to head back yet. It was hard to believe he’d ever felt claustrophobic in the castle after he’d spent most of the last two weeks stuck in one room, with two other people no less. Merlin seemed to pick up on his thoughts and suggested they wander down to the river first.

They had to head past the cottage on the way and Arthur took the opportunity to rest his leg while Merlin grabbed a couple of empty buckets, one of which he passed to Arthur before leading him down a well-trodden path. The entrance to which was mostly hidden by a great sprawling yew tree at the edge of the clearing. Once they were on the path Arthur found it a lot easier going. The trees seemed to lean away from them, letting the sun shine down on his golden head, and where the other path had been a maze of sharp twists and turns, this one curved gently until they reached the pebbly riverbank.

Merlin directed Arthur to follow the grassy verge around while he picked his way across the river smooth stones, coming to a stop by a wall of chalky pale earth with Arthur stood above him. Arthur sat and dangled his legs over the edge, watching as Merlin thrust his hands into the earth and starting filling his bucket with clumps of clay. Once it was full, he passed the bucket up to Arthur and filled up the other with the same.

“What’s this for then?” Asked Arthur as Merlin washed his hands in the river.

“You can use it for loads of things, making cups and bowls, you can use it in fulling, use it to fill in cracks in the walls. You can use it in healing and cooking. Lots of things.”

Arthur helped Merlin scramble up the bank and the two sat side by side just listening to the rush of water below them.

“So when does it start singing?” Arthur asked, half teasing, half intrigued.

“It’s already singing.”

Arthur looked over and saw that Merlin had a smile on his face and his eyes closed.

“Doesn’t sound much like singing to me.”

Merlin opened his eyes and his smile turned wistful.

“Will said the same thing.” He was quiet then nodded decisively to himself and tugged on Arthur’s arm. “Come with me.”

They left the buckets but didn’t go far. Just a few paces further down the river where a great white willow stood, its branches arching out over the water. Merlin knelt at its base and reached for Arthur’s hands, placing it on the trunk.

“Now really _listen_.”

Arthur looked at him sceptically but nevertheless found himself curious and pressed his ear to the bark and concentrated. After a minute of nothing but the noise of the river and his own breathing, he felt a soft warmth glide over his skin and heard an odd sound. It was like the rumble of thunder followed by a pop, repeating rhythmically like the beat of a drum. And then in the distance something like a voice, deep and earthy holding a promise of near infinite power. It was too deeply buried for Arthur to hear the words but still it felt strangely familiar, as if it were imprinted on his very soul.

He listened for what felt like hours before Merlin’s hand on his shoulder drew him away. He rubbed his eyes and was surprised to feel they were wet.

“I told you they sing.” Merlin whispered.

Arthur found he couldn’t answer but covered Merlin’s hand with his own and held it there.

\---

Over the next few days if they weren’t tending the gardens they were chopping away at the fallen tree. Taking it in turns to swing the axe since Arthur didn’t trust Merlin not to accidentally cut his fingers off if they tried to synchronise. Once Arthur’s leg had healed completely, and he was able to stand for an hour without pain things picked up, but it was still ultimately slow-going. At about the half way point Merlin declared they have a day off before his arms fell off.

All of his griping about needing to sleep for a week was quickly forgotten the next morning however, when he hauled Arthur away from where he’d been carefully inspecting his sword for signs of rust.

“Come on help me do the fulling!” He said cheerfully.

“Wait Merlin, what on earth is fulling?” Arthur complained as Merlin dragged him round to the back of the house where a large wooden basin sat.

When he’d first noticed it Arthur had assumed it was for bathing like his tub back home except, you know... peasant-sized. But they had a basin inside that Hunith used, while Merlin seemed to prefer just wading into rivers and streams whenever the mood struck him. He hadn’t given much thought to it since but as Merlin dragged him closer he noticed it was full of the cloth Hunith had been weaving sat in what looked like muddy water.

“Take off your shoes.” Merlin ordered casually, already barefoot himself with his trousers rolled up to his knees.

Arthur rolled his eyes but did so and watched as Merlin stepped into the basin.

“Well come on then.”

“Come stand in a bucket of muddy water you mean.”

Merlin sighed as if Arthur was being particularly difficult.

“It’s not mud it’s fuller’s earth, you know for the _fulling_. Haven’t you ever done this before?”

“I’m a _Prince_ Merlin, Princes don’t do... this kind of thing.” Arthur explained in his most pompous voice.

“Well then _Princes_ don’t know what they’re missing.” Merlin answered easily. “Come on it’s fun I’ll show you!”

Arthur sighed loudly but stepped into the basin with Merlin, gripping the other boys upper arms for balance.

“And now we stomp!”

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

“We stomp... and this is what peasants do for fun is it?”

“Not _just_ for fun clotpole. But it’s like jumping in muddy puddles as a kid you know?”

Arthur didn’t know truth be told, but he wasn’t about to tell a grinning Merlin that, and risk dimming his infectious smile. And so with one last sigh he lifted his foot and brought it down with a satisfying squelch.

“There you go!” Merlin cheered, stomping on the spot.

Arthur chuckled at Merlin’s childlike glee and turned to watch their feet stamping back and forth. Then Merlin began to sing in time.

_Summer has arrived,_

_Sing loudly cuckoo,_

_The seed is growing,_

_And the meadow is blooming,_

Arthur was surprised to realise that he recognised the song as one he’d often heard sung in the marketplace and joined in.

_Sing cuckoo now, Sing cuckoo..._

They finished the song by jumping as one and soaked the ground around them when half the water splashed out as a result. Holding each other upright while they laughed.

As Arthur rested his forehead against Merlin’s he had the passing thought that it would be rather wonderful if the path never got cleared and he could stay forever...

\---

Arthur estimated it would only take another day or so to remove the fallen tree when Will turned up again. Merlin was the first to hear him, one minute he was magicking up a crop of daisies with plans to drop them on Arthur’s head, the next minute he was clambering over the log to drag the boy into a hug.

Arthur rested the axe against his shoulder and watched Merlin fuss over his friend while peppering him with questions.

“Merlin, Merlin it’s fine, I’m fine, the village is fine.”

“But the rains—”

“We had most of the harvest in before they came and the furrows did the rest.”

“Are you—”

“ _Yes_ I’m sure Merlin.”

Merlin seemed to sink in relief then gave Will a hand up back over the tree and offered Arthur a sheepish smile when he noticed him smirking.

“You’re still here then.” Will directed at Arthur, subtly angling himself to stand between the Prince and Merlin.

“Will don’t—”

“No Merlin that’s alright.” Arthur interrupted. “After how I behaved, whatever Will has to say to me is well-deserved.”

Arthur stood at attention with his arms behind his back and his head lowered in deference. As if he were at court standing before his father the King, instead of in the middle of the woods awaiting the judgement of a peasant boy angry on his friends behalf.

“Well it sounds like you’ve changed your tune but I will say this – I don’t care if you’re a Knight, a Prince, or King of all bloody Albion, if you hurt Merlin ever again... I’ll personally sink that axe between your eyes.”

They both ignored Merlin’s appalled – _Will!_ – in favour of maintaining eye contact. Arthur said nothing but dipped his head in acknowledgement and an uneasy truce was silently agreed upon between the two of them.

Merlin clapped loudly to break the silence.

“OK then! Let’s go tell mother you’re here.” He said, taking each boys wrist and marching them back to the cottage.

“Mother!” Merlin yelled as the garden came into view. “Look who’s here!”

“Oh Will.” Hunith rushed towards them, clasping Will’s hand between her own. “We’ve been so worried after you.”

“Thank you Hunith, I’m fine. We’ve weathered worse.”

“Exactly what I told Merlin, but you know how he gets.”

“ _Mother!”_ Merlin blushed.

They all went indoors and took a seat around the table while Merlin got everyone a drink.

“I do have other news though and well, it’s probably a good thing you’re still here since it concerns your lot.” Will announced.

“What do you mean?” Arthur frowned.

“Brant got back a couple days ago from visiting his cousin and says he saw more knights on the road.”

“My knights?”

Will shook his head.

“Essetir knights. Brant’s cousin says there’s been a lot of activity at the castle, so Brant reckons they’re doing a final sweep of the Kingdom before Cenred marches his armies out.”

“You mentioned knights last time as well. I assumed you meant red cloaks.” Merlin added.

“Are you sure it wasn’t simply a patrol?” Arthur asked hopefully.

The others all scoffed in unison.

“The Knights only visit the outlying villages once a year to collect taxes. The only other time we see them is when...” Hunith’s breath hitched.

“When they’re searching for magic-users.” Merlin finished quietly.

“Either way.” Said Will. “If Cenred is moving his army there’s only one place he’s going to be marching on.”

“Camelot.” Arthur breathed.

“And assuming he’s not dumb enough to try crossing the Ridge of Ascetir, they’re going to be heading this way. Merlin you need to run!”

“What? No, _no_ I can’t just leave!”

“Merlin.” Hunith grabbed her son’s shoulder. “Will’s right, if you stay here and they find you—”

“No mother, you’ve already had to leave your home once because of me I won’t let you do it again.”

“I would run to the ends of the earth to keep you safe my boy.”

“I know mother, but what kind of life is that? To always be running and looking over our shoulders, never being free. I can’t live like that.”

Hunith’s eyes were wet as she stared beseechingly at her son but Merlin remained firm. Arthur’s mind was racing but he kept coming back to the same thought, one that had been floating in the back of his mind for the past few days but he hadn’t found the right words to ask it until now.

“What if Merlin came back with me.” He suggested.

“Come with you...” Merlin repeated with a frown.

“Back where exactly, Camelot? Have you completely lost your mind, we’re trying to keep Merlin _safe_ not get him beheaded!” Will ranted.

Arthur ignored him and looked only at Merlin.

“I have to return to Camelot, I must warn my father about Cenred, but even if that weren’t the case – after everything I’ve seen, all that I’ve learnt – I need to go back and try to repair the damage my father has done. I need to change things, I need to show my people the truth about magic, teach them the way you’ve taught me.”

But I don’t think I can do it without you Merlin. I know I’m asking too much of you and if you choose to run then I will of course respect your decision but... I want you with me. So what do you say, will you help me save my Kingdom? Merlin will you help me bring magic back to Camelot?”

Merlin didn’t answer but stared at Arthur in shock, his eyes shining with tears. Bit by bit his lips turned up into a smile which Arthur found himself cautiously returning.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me, Merlin you can’t go to Camelot it’s too dangerous!”

“It’s too dangerous for me to stay, you said it yourself Will. If there’s a chance that I can help, save people then don’t you think that’s worth it? There has to be a reason I was born like this, maybe this is why!” Merlin shook his head and looked up with a determined glint in his eye. “I’m going with Arthur.”

Arthur tried to convey all the gratitude and affection he was feeling through his gaze as the two boys smiled at each other, while Will gaped between them.

“This is madness, Hunith surely you have something to say about it!” He tried desperately.

They all turned to Hunith who’d been quiet for a few minutes now. Her fingers twitched compulsively on the table top and Arthur had to resist the urge to lean over and cover them with his own. Eventually she turned to her son and smoothed a lock of hair back from Merlin’s forehead, cradling his cheek in her hand.

“My sweet boy. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be safe and happy. But I know the former is worth little without the latter. So tell me, is this truly what you want?”

“It is mother.” Merlin whispered.

“Then just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Hunith no!” Will yelled.

“I promise mother.” Merlin answered, covering her hand with his own and leaning into the warmth of her palm.

Will had gotten up to pace out of frustration and Merlin stood and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Will you look after my mother for me Will. Will you look after each other?”

Will frowned, still itching to argue but gave a jerky nod.

“Course I will.” He sighed then yanked Merlin into a hug. “You’re my best damn friend Merlin and I swear if you get yourself killed I’ll never forgive you.”

Merlin huffed a laugh through his tears but returned the hug just as tight.


	2. Chapter 2

They didn’t set off right away. They needed to finish clearing the path for one. Then they stuck around to help Hunith pack as it was decided it made more sense for her to return to live with Will in Ealdor, where they could look after each other, rather than try and maintain the cottage on her own.

They were both sad to leave their home of more than ten years behind but Merlin liked the idea of giving it over to the forest. He was also sure to make one last visit and share a song with each of his favourite singing trees, and even coaxed Arthur into swimming in the river with him, seeing as it was his last chance to do so.

It was decided that they should part ways before they reached the village so as to cause the least amount of fuss. The people of Ealdor were after all used to seeing Hunith on occasion, when she delivered her wares for Will to trade, but no one had seen Merlin since he was a child and Arthur’s sword marked him as an outsider.

The farewells were painful and in the end it was Hunith who broke away first, gently encouraging Arthur to drag Merlin away while she kept up a string of reassurances of love and urged him again to be careful, keep it hidden.

While Merlin slept the night before, Arthur had taken Hunith aside and sworn to her that he would protect Merlin for as long as he lived. And as he listened to Merlin valiantly trying to swallow down his tears as they distanced themselves from everything he’d ever known, all for the sake of a Kingdom and its people that weren’t even his, Arthur knew that was a promise he’d stick to until his dying breath.

Without horses it would take them several days to reach the citadel but they’d crossed the border after a few short hours. Arthur felt like a weight had been lifted from him to know he was back in Camelot at last, and as they set up camp for the night at the base of the Ridge of Ascetir, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Looking forward to going back?” Asked Merlin from where he was sat on his bed roll.

Arthur hummed in the positive.

 “Could be under better circumstances, but I’ll be glad to see everyone again.”

“You must miss them.”

Arthur considered Merlin, taking note of the downward turn of his mouth as he gazed into the fire.

“I do appreciate you coming with me Merlin. I know it was difficult to leave your mother.”

Merlin sniffed but offered Arthur a sad smile.

“Will will look after her. They’ll look after each other.” He said, more to reassure himself than anything.

“Have you got that letter your mother gave you?”

Merlin leaned over and rifled through his pack until he came upon the parchment marked _Gaius_ on the front in Hunith’s neat writing and waved it at Arthur.

It had been a surprise when Hunith had mentioned her relationship to Camelot’s court physician, and even more so to learn that they still kept in touch. Although naturally their correspondence had been sparse since they moved to the woods, nothing more than the odd letter every few years delivered through Will.

Arthur had been wary at first, his father had always considered Gaius to be a loyal servant in the fight against magic but Hunith was sure that he would help them. Something she said remained stuck in his thoughts – _We all play many roles in life, some are more hidden than others_ – Arthur knew he would have a new role to play when they got back.

“What’s Gaius like then?” Said Merlin, interrupting his thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Well if I’m going to be living and working with him, I should probably know a bit about him.”

“Gaius is a good man, excellent physician. You’ll learn a lot from him I’m sure.” Said Arthur.

“... That’s it?”

Arthur shrugged.

“You can’t give me anything else?”

“What else is there?”

“But you said you’d known him your whole life!” Merlin shouted in frustration.

“I have!”

“But you don’t know _anything_ about him except he’s good at his job?”

“Well I don’t know!” Arthur yelled back before throwing himself down on his own bed roll.

They avoided meeting each other’s eyes and sat in tense silence for a while.

“He was very kind to me as a child.” He eventually continued in a calmer voice. “I use to visit his chambers sometimes when father was busy and he was always very patient.”

“Well that’s something at least.” Said Merlin sarcastically, though the smile on his face as he looked down at Arthur took the sting out of it. Arthur rolled his eyes in response.

“You’re not supposed to tease the Prince, Merlin.” He pointed out.

“Why, aren’t royalty allowed a sense of humour?”

Arthur snorted. That certainly seemed the case with some royals he’d met.

“Go to sleep Merlin. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.” He said instead.

“I suppose you’re right. G’night Arthur.”

\---

They set off again early the next day and kept a steady pace until the sun was kissing the horizon, only pausing every now and then to refill their water skins.

Merlin’s feet were aching by noon, and by the time they finally stopped they were throbbing so much he was half convinced that they must have swollen and he wouldn’t be able to remove his boots.

The third morning since they’d left, Arthur’s good morning was met by melodramatic groaning from Merlin’s direction.

“Honestly Merlin, it’s only a bit of walking.” Arthur mocked.

“Tell that to the bloody stumps where my feet should be.” Came the muffled answer.

Merlin yelped when the blanket was torn away from him and pouted up at the culprit, who was looking far too amused.

“If you don’t get up on your own, I will be glad to give you some encouragement.” Said Arthur, hanging his water skin threateningly above Merlin’s head.

“OK. I’m up, I’m up!” Merlin scrambled to his feet, screwing his face up when his calf gave an angry twinge. While Arthur just smirked and tossed him his pack.

It was a few hours later when Arthur realised how much Merlin was lagging behind and stopped to see what the problem was.

“I told you my feet hurt.” Merlin complained, leaning his weight against a tree.

Arthur sighed dramatically but decided to take pity on him.

“Come on, sit down and let’s have a look.”

Merlin gratefully slumped down to the floor and removed his boots, gently flexing his sore toes. He watched confused as Arthur took a seat in front of him and moved his right foot to rest in his lap, and jumped when the Prince suddenly dug his thumbs into the sole.

“What are you doing?” He asked slowly. Breath hitching when Arthur’s fingers pressed the sensitive in-soles.

“Helping your muscles relax.” Arthur said moving to the heel. “Gaius showed me after I overworked myself one too many times in training.”

Merlin watched as Arthur seemed completely focused on the task. He couldn’t deny it felt quite nice, Arthur fingers warm and firm as he kneaded out the knots in Merlin’s calves. He had to bite back a relieved moan more than once, and could only hope he wasn’t blushing too noticeably when Arthur finally finished.

Merlin muttered a quiet thank you and Arthur looked up. Only then did he realise how close they were sitting, one of Merlin’s feet still cradled in his lap. He didn’t move away immediately though, letting his fingertips tap absentmindedly on Merlin’s ankle.

Arthur opened his mouth to say something, though he wasn’t sure what, when a distant yell cut through the tension and had them both on their feet at once.

Another shout and they were running towards it, Arthur’s sword already in his hand. They burst into a clearing where four men, bandits by the look of them, were facing off against a woman with bloody knuckles and a scowl.

Arthur immediately jumped into the fray, striking down the closest man and smoothly blocking another’s sword. The third turned towards Merlin with his own sword raised and backed him into a tree. Merlin felt the bitter taste of panic rising in his throat and instinctively brought his magic bubbling to the surface, slowing the world around him just long enough to note the dangling branch above him and will it to fall on his assailants head.

The world snapped back to rights and Merlin picked up the fallen bandits’ sword and turned back to the fighting, determined to help despite having no idea what he was doing.

It seemed he was not needed however as he watched the woman deal with her own bandit. She aimed a kick at the man across from her who caught her foot before it could make contact with his ribs, instead of pulling away though she used his grip to hoist herself onto his back and held her forearm against his throat in a choke hold.

Arthur was quick to despatch his bandit and turned to take care of the last one only to see him flailing on his back, weak fingers pulling at the woman’s arm blocking his airway. She didn’t ease up until the man hadn’t moved for a full minute.

Merlin dropped the sword and rushed over to offer the woman a hand up.

“Are you alright? We heard yelling and came to help. Though it looked like you were doing pretty well on your own.” Merlin laughed.

“I am fine, thank you.”

“I’m Merlin by the way and this is Arthur.”

The woman turned towards Arthur and paled.

“Prince Arthur!” She gasped, immediately dropping into a bow and averting her eyes. “They said you were missing my Lord.”

Merlin fidgeted uncomfortably. He knew Arthur was the Prince of course, and much of the past few days’ chatting had been Arthur doing his best to teach Merlin the _proper_ way to behave around nobility. But seeing the woman’s behaviour switch so suddenly was... strange. Even more so was watching Arthur’s reaction as he drew himself up, and his expression settled into the same politely neutral mask that Merlin recognised as the same one he’d used when speaking with his mother that first night in the cottage. Distantly Merlin realised that this was his first glimpse of _Prince_ Arthur.

“I was injured and unable to send word to my father, but I am now fully recovered.”

“We were all concerned for your safety my lord. The people will be relieved to have you back.”

Arthur smiled at that, though Merlin saw a tightness around his eyes.

“What is your name?”

“Forridel sire.”

“You are a skilled fighter. I don’t believe I’ve seen that style before.”

“It was amazing!” Merlin added.

Forridel smiled.

“Thank you.”

“May I ask where you are headed? We are some distance from the road and there are no villages nearby.” Arthur asked in a carefully measured tone.

Forridel tensed and Arthur felt a touch of suspicion building. Merlin however noticed nothing and continued in his good-natured way.

“Oh no! Did the bandits get you turned about, do you need help? Arthur can help he knows everywhere in Camelot. Well maybe not the borderlands...” Merlin smirked.

Putting aside any misgivings for the moment, Arthur rolled his eyes in Merlin’s direction.

“No, thank you sire.” Said Forridel, looking back and forth between the two boys. “I know these woods quite well, I was just following a short-cut. Thank you again for your help, I am sure you are eager to reach the citadel and I won’t take up any more of your time.”

She bowed once more then quickly turned and hurried further into the forest. Merlin continued staring into the trees that she’d disappeared into for a little longer, before abruptly remembering the four dead men in the clearing with them and had to swallow down the nausea hovering like a lump in his throat.

“You alright Merlin?” Arthur asked kindly.

“Yes, yeah I’m fine just feeling a bit...” He couldn’t find the right word so gave an exaggerated full body shudder instead. “Silly, I know.”

“Not at all, it’s perfectly natural. I’ve known many knights who became violently ill after their first fight.” Arthur comforted.

Merlin laughed a bit hysterically but forced himself to breathe normally.

“I think my breakfast is staying where it is for the moment.”

Arthur clapped him companionably on the back.

“Well I had hoped we’d reach Camelot before nightfall but I reckon we’re still a full days or so walk away.” He said, gently guiding Merlin away from the clearing. “Can’t be helped. We’ll reach the border of Darkling Woods at least.”

“I thought we were still in the Forest of Ascetir.” Merlin said.

“We are but the daylight through those trees mark the edge of this forest.” He gestured ahead with his sword. “But there’s only a couple of fields that separate it from Darkling Woods, which encompasses Camelot. This time tomorrow we’ll be walking through the gates.”

“This time tomorrow.” Merlin echoed.

They continued walking, quieter now than they had been. Though Arthur habitually made comments, specifically to get a reaction out of Merlin, whenever the younger man seemed stuck in his thoughts. It wasn’t too difficult in the end, as it seemed Merlin was incapable of holding his tongue when Arthur was being arrogant, or as he put it – being a right Royal prat.

By the time they bedded down for the night Merlin was smiling easy again, making the most of his magic before they reached the city and he’d have to limit himself to little bursts in his room to stay healthy.

Arthur fell asleep to the sight of Merlin sat in a circle of delicate bluebells, lit up by a halo of soft swirling blue lights with shimmering gold eyes. His last thought was that he’d never seen anything more beautiful.

\---

They were at the edge of the Darkling Woods and Merlin couldn’t move. Camelot stood before them in all its white stone glory, just as Arthur had said. He could already see some people, more than he’d ever seen in his whole life, more than he could count. He was overwhelmed and they hadn’t even reached the castle yet.

“Camelot.” Arthur declared, his voice equal parts pride and relief as he looked upon his beloved home once again. “Beautiful isn’t she.”

Merlin didn’t answer, too busy trying to swallow down his nerves.

“It’s taller than an oak tree.” He whispered, eyes wide as he gazed at the smooth turrets that topped the castle.

Arthur smirked at the awe in Merlin’s voice and patted him on the back.

“Just wait till you see it up close.”

Merlin let out a strangled noise and Arthur finally took notice of how pale he was.

“Merlin?”

“I’m OK, I’m OK. It’s just I’m used to the woods and the trees and— and hiding from people. And that’s a lot of people, a-and not a lot of trees and I don’t— I’m not—”

“Whoa Merlin! Calm down and take a breath OK.” Arthur said taking Merlin by the shoulders and turning him so they were face to face. “It’s alright to be nervous. And yes, there are a lot of people but that’s fine. I promised your mother I’d keep you safe and I always keep my promises.”

Merlin bit his lip anxiously but no longer looked like he was about to collapse out of fear.

“And you’ll have Gaius as well to help you and keep an eye on you. And if you miss the trees you can always come visit these. Who knows, maybe you’ll even find some singing ones!” Arthur teased.

Merlin couldn’t help smiling at that. Then took another deep breath to steady himself and straightened his back.

“I’m ready.” He said, and together they entered the city.

As they passed through the town people stopped and stared, occasionally running up to Arthur to express their relief or check that it was really him. A knight met them as they were crossing the drawbridge and after a brief conversation with Arthur, during which Merlin worked hard to ignore a lifelong instinct to run and hide, he rode ahead to inform the King of their arrival.

Merlin twisted his head every which way as he tried to take in as much as he could, Arthur’s hand on his shoulder making sure he didn’t trip on the paving stones and pulling him to a stop at the base of the stairs.

“I need to go and report to my father. Go through that arch and up the stairs you’ll find the physicians chambers. If Gaius isn’t in wait there for him, don’t go wandering off or knowing you, you’ll wind up getting arrested and thrown in the dungeons.”

“Hey!” Merlin objected.

“ _Stay_ there.” Arthur ignored him. “And I’ll come and find you as soon as I can alright?”

Merlin nodded and they parted ways. Arthur heading up the stairs while Merlin ducked through the archway and up to meet his new guardian.

He knocked on the door only to have it swing open on its hinges. Merlin poked his head through and called out but it looked like Gaius wasn’t in. He hesitated for a moment in the doorway, it didn’t seem quite right to invite himself in without permission, but Arthur had told him to wait and so wait he would.

He fiddled with the straps of his pack restlessly while he wandered round the room, looking with interest at all the strange tools and equipment lying about. There were cabinets full of vials of liquid and bottles of powder, each neatly labelled in the same spiky script. Bundles of dried herbs most of which, Merlin was pleased to note, he recognised, were draped over tables and hooked over banisters. Candles were dotted about all over the place, but that was nothing next to the _books._ They littered every surface, stacked on the steps, tables, chairs, even on the floor.

For Merlin, who had never even seen a book before, it was like something out of a dream, and he couldn’t help picking one up and running his hand reverently over the cover before cracking it open. He laid it down gently on a clear patch of table and sat down to read while he waited.

Gaius as it turned out had been summoned to the throne room once it was known that the Prince had returned. The King in a rare outward display of affection, had embraced Arthur the moment he entered, and Arthur allowed himself a minute just to soak in how grateful he was to be back.

“Arthur we’ve been searching for you for weeks! What happened?”

“We were ambushed by bandits, they took us by surprise and I was injured and separated from the group.” Arthur explained, easily slipping back into his role of Prince giving a report to the King. “Luckily a boy and his mother found me. They took me in and tended to me.”

“I sent knights out to every village, why didn’t they come forward?” Uther demanded.

“Hunith and Merlin live near the border in Essetir Sire, not Camelot.”

“Did you say Hunith?” Asked Gaius, and Arthur smiled at the old physician.

“Yes, Hunith said you were a friend of the family. I brought Merlin back with me, he was hoping to be apprenticed to you if that’s alright.”

Gaius looked unsure as he examined the Prince, and Arthur considered the fact that Gaius perhaps already knew about Merlin, and was wondering how much Arthur knew when he turned to smile at the King.

“Of course. I could certainly use an extra pair of hands.”

“Excellent, where is the boy now? I will see that he is rewarded.” Uther clapped his hands together.

“I told him to wait in Gaius’ chambers, we’ve been walking for the past four days so I thought it best.”

“In that case Sire if I am not needed I should see that the boy is settled.” At the King’s nod, Gaius bowed and left the hall.

Arthur spared a thought to hope everything went well once Merlin explained the real reason he’d come to Camelot, then turned back to his father.

“You should get some rest too Arthur.”

“I will father but first there’s something else I need to tell you.”

\---

Merlin was halfway through a guide on how to properly harvest the mandrake root when he heard the door open and jumped to his feet guiltily, nearly tripping over the bench as he did so.

“Merlin I assume.” The man said and Merlin smiled sheepishly.

“Yes, Gaius?” He nodded. “This is for you.” Merlin held out the letter from his mother, only slightly crumpled from being shoved in his pack for four days.

Gaius took it then walked over to the desk where a pair of reading glasses sat. Merlin wondered if Arthur had gotten a chance to tell Gaius much of the situation before he had to report to his father, or if his mother had put it all in the letter. He fidgeted on the spot while he waited for Gaius’ reaction either way.

“I suppose you better put your bag in there then.” Gaius said, gesturing to the room behind him.

Merlin had been expecting a different reaction but figured he’d take what he could get and hopped up the steps into his new room, grinning when he saw the bed. He dumped his bag and sat on the mattress, relishing the springiness. Gaius was watching him amused from the doorway.

“Have you eaten?”

“Oh, um yes. We had some bread left this morning.”

“Well I’ll get you some water either way.”

Merlin thanked him and sat back down at the table. Gaius filled a cup from the bucket, but as he leant forward his elbow knocked it off its precarious perch on the table. Merlin without thinking, flung out a hand and froze it in mid-air.

At the physicians’ gasp he realised what he’d done and let the bucket drop, water spilling out across the floor.

“What did you just do?”

“I didn’t—I’m not—”

“Did you incant a spell in your mind?”

“I don’t know any spells.”

“Well then how?”

“It just happens!” Merlin insisted. “Mother thought you might be able to help me...”

Merlin fetched the mop from beside the door and tried to clean up the mess, doing it by magic would be pushing his luck he reckoned. He looked up when Gaius put a hand on his shoulder.

“Well I’ll certainly do my best. But for now we’d better focus on keeping you out of trouble. The Prince said you were here to learn as my apprentice.”

“Yes, Arthur thought that was the best way to explain me being here.”

Gaius did a double take at that.

“Hold on... Do you mean to say he knows the real reason you’re here?”

“Oh yeah Arthur knows about the magic. That’s why he wanted me to come, so I could help him bring it back.” Merlin explained, eyes gleaming.

Gaius seemed in a state of shock and Merlin wondered if he should grab a chair for him, but the man soon managed to process the revelation enough to sort himself out.

“Well I uh... I should like to talk about this more later but for now here. You can deliver these for me.” He said, handing Merlin a small bag and a handful of bottles. “Liquorice for Sir Ector, the cropleek is for Lady Lucan, and the sleeping draught is for the Lady Morgana.”

“Right.”  

“Off you go then, and I hardly need tell you to be careful.”

Merlin nodded seriously and after some quick directions set off, idly hoping he might run into Arthur on the way.

The first two deliveries went well, although the knight barely spared him a glance before snatching the bottle and slamming the door in his face. Merlin chalked it up as simply a bad day for Sir Ector and hoped this was not the standard behaviour of nobles. At least Lady Lucan was much more pleasant, thanking him graciously even if rather strangely she only opened the door wide enough to reach her hand out.

The sleeping draught was all that was left and he made his way up the short spiral staircase to the Lady Morgana’s room and knocked on the door. A girl opened the door with a smile.

“Can I help you?”

Merlin started to answer when a different voice interrupted.

“Who is it Gwen?”

Another girl appeared and Gwen opened the door wider. The blue silk dress suggested this was the Lady in question.

“I have a draught for the Lady Morgana?” He said.

“Gaius usually brings me my potion.”

“Oh I’m Merlin, Gaius’ new apprentice.” He explained with a smile.

“Of course, you came back with Arthur! Please come in.” She said, moving away to set the vial on her dresser. “This is Guinevere, my maid.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Merlin.”

“Now do tell us what happened, everyone has been saying you saved the Prince’s life.” Morgana said and Merlin blushed.

“Oh no, not really. I just helped a bit.”

“So you didn’t find him and nurse him back to health?” She questioned, a teasing glint in her eye.

Merlin laughed.

“I found him and brought him home, but it was my mother who did most of the nursing.”

“Well either way it’s lovely to meet you Merlin, and you’re very welcome here in Camelot.”

Merlin stamped down the thought of how quickly that would change if they knew the truth and thanked her, said goodbye to them both and headed back to his room. It wasn’t yet time for dinner but Merlin found himself exhausted and was looking forward to trying out his new bed. He thought he should probably find out where Arthur’s chambers were as well and made a mental note to ask Gaius later, preferably after a few hours sleep.

\---

A voice was calling his name. A deep rumbling voice that echoed around his skull, pulling him from sleep. He expected to see Gaius stood at the foot of the bed, or maybe even Arthur but he opened his eyes to nothing but a dark empty room.

He didn’t move, waiting to see if he heard it again or if it was just a holdover from his dream.

 _Merlin_...

He threw his legs over the side of the bed and shoved his boots on, determined to find the source of that voice.

He stepped softly, not wanting to wake Gaius or attract the attention of any guards. For all that he was a little lacking in social interaction, Merlin knew someone sneaking around after dark was suspicious and he could hardly explain himself if he was caught and _not_ expect to end up in the dungeons.

He followed the voice across the empty courtyard and through a handful of corridors until he reached a wrought iron staircase. The voice was still calling but the guards at the base of the stairs didn’t so much as look up from their game.

_Merlin..._

His curiosity battled with his caution as he peered over the railing, but eventually the former won out and he searched for something to distract the guards with. Quiet as he could he crept to the base of the stairs, keeping below the railing just in case and waited, poised to dart through the doors where the voice had echoed from.

One of the guards rolled the dice and Merlin willed it to roll just a little further off the table and skip away across the flagstones. As he’d hoped the guard went to fetch it and Merlin slipped unnoticed by them and carried on down a tunnelled stairway.

Gradually the smooth pale stone of the castle gave way to raw rock, and as the air became warmer Merlin wondered just how far below Camelot the path went. It finally opened up into a cavern so vast it would likely take all the torches in the city to illuminate it.

There was magic in this place, Merlin could feel it thrumming in his chest, harmonising with his own. But there was a sour edge to it, something that spoke of anger and loss at odds with the amusement in the voice still calling his name.

“Where are you?” He shouted into the darkness.

There was a strange rattle and flapping sound and then Merlin was stumbling backwards in shock as a dragon descended from above and turned its ancient golden gaze upon him.

“I am here.” The dragon answered. “How small you are for such a great destiny.”

Merlin took a moment to collect himself.

“Destiny? What do you mean, who are you?”

“I am Kilgharrah. I am the Great Dragon.”

“Arthur didn’t mention there was a dragon living beneath Camelot.” Merlin complained. He’d managed three hours on the importance of proper sword maintenance but of course the fact of a great bloody _dragon_ under the castle had slipped his mind.

“The Once and Future King knows of me only as a character in his father’s stories.”

“Wait Uther knows about you?”

“It is Uther that imprisoned me!” Kilgharrah roared.

It was only then that Merlin noticed the chain trailing down from the dragon’s foot, clinking against the rock softly each time Kilgharrah moved.

“You’re a prisoner.” Merlin whispered to himself. The bitterness he’d felt when he entered the cavern now made perfect sense. “How do I free you?”

“You have the power young warlock, but I fear you do not yet possess the skill to release me.”

“What does that mean, are you saying I need to learn a spell or something? Is there nothing I can do now?” Merlin asked desperately.

The dragons tone was gentle as he looked down at the boy.

“You have a kind heart Merlin, it is both your strength and your undoing. But I’m afraid you cannot help me yet. You must fulfil your destiny.”

“Are you sure? I could talk to Arthur, maybe he can help.” Merlin tried again.

“He may do so, but only with _your_ help young warlock. For your and Arthur’s paths lie together. Without you he will never unite Albion. Without you he is doomed to fail.”

“Right.” Merlin gulped. “... any advice?”

“Trust in your destiny.” Was all he got in return before Kilgharrah spread his wings and disappeared back up from where he came. Ignoring Merlin calling after him.

After sneaking back to his room, thankfully only taking one wrong turn in the process, his mind was racing so much he thought he’d never get to sleep again. Whatever the dragon said, Merlin resolved himself to talk to Arthur about it in the morning. Just as soon as he found out where his chambers were.

\---

It wasn’t meant to be however as a week went by and Merlin had yet to see Arthur since they’d arrived in Camelot.

He was so used to his quiet routine at home with his mother that getting used to the noise and rush of the citadel was taking a while, thus when Gaius asked him to collect some fresh herbs from the woods for him, Merlin jumped at the chance.

It wasn’t to say that he didn’t like Camelot. The place was just as impressive as Arthur had said, and he’d even made friends with some of the servants and townspeople, but it felt good to be around trees again.

Trees had a peacefulness to them. It was never silent in the woods, instead there was a steady background hum that if he let it, would lull Merlin to sleep in minutes. Right now however he was too busy looking for herbs and trying not to let his thoughts spin too far out in worry.

He knew Arthur was probably just busy. Being a prince came with a lot of responsibilities, or so Arthur had told him, and that was without the threat of Cenred’s army on the way. But there was still a little voice in the back of his mind that was wondering _what if_...

What if Arthur had changed his mind about bringing magic back? What if Arthur had changed his mind about magic all together? And the worst of all – _What if it was a lie from the start?_

It was only a little voice in the back of his mind though, and Merlin was determined to ignore it. He’d foraged everything Gaius had asked for but just as he was ready to head back he spotted a patch of mushrooms sprouting beneath a birch tree and figured it couldn’t hurt to pick some for tonight’s dinner. He’d barely touched the first one when a screech rent through the air.

Merlin looked up to see a very strange, very big, but most importantly very angry creature barrelling towards him. He tried to run but in his shock he didn’t look where he was going and tripped. He could almost feel the vicious looking beak already tearing into his back when suddenly there was someone hooking Merlin’s shoulder and dragging him upright and away. He didn’t even catch a glimpse of his rescuer before the stranger was dragging them both down behind a fallen tree while the feathery beast charged past them.

He waited and watched long enough to make sure it was gone before Merlin finally turned towards his saviour.

“You just saved my life. Thank you!” He gasped. “I’m Merlin.”

“Lancelot.” Said the other man, before promptly falling unconscious.

It was only then that Merlin noticed Lancelot was clutching his side, and a worrying dark stain was spreading under his ribs. He didn’t think before he was cupping his own hands over the wound and willing it to close with a flash of golden eyes.

Once it had stopped bleeding Merlin abruptly remembered where he was and panicked for a bit. After assuring himself that the man was well and truly unconscious and didn’t just see Merlin flagrantly breaking the law, he decided the best thing to do now was to bring him to Gaius.

\---

The next morning dawned with Lancelot patched up and asleep in Merlin’s room, while he and Gaius set about trying to identify what creature it was that had attacked them.

“It had wings like a bird but it was _huge_. I’ve never seen anything like it!” Merlin described.

Gaius nodded and tapped on an image in his bestiary.

“It sounds to me Merlin that it was a Griffin that attacked you both. I’ll have to inform the King of this.”

“It’s that bad?”

“I’m afraid so. Griffin’s are ferocious beasts once they get a taste for human flesh. But more than that they are creatures of magic, and can only be killed by magic.”

“But Uther would never allow that.”

“Indeed.”

A groan came from the direction of the back room and Merlin got up to see if Lancelot’s fever had broken yet while Gaius left to do his rounds.

The man was awake when he opened the door and Merlin fetched him some water before helping him sit up to drink it. With a pang Merlin was reminded how not so long ago he had helped Arthur in the same way.

“Thank you.” Said Lancelot.

“How are you feeling?” Merlin asked.

“I am well thank you. But perhaps you could tell me where I am?”

Merlin almost laughed at the familiar question.

“You’re in Camelot, the physician’s chambers. You were injured when you saved me. Thanks for that by the way.” He grinned.

“Oh, well I thank you for helping me in return.” Lancelot smiled back, then his gaze strayed to the window.

“Camelot.” His tone was oddly wistful and Merlin arched a brow in question. “It has been my life’s ambition to come here and join the knights of Camelot. It is a foolish dream perhaps, when they have the pick of the best and bravest in the land.”

“Lancelot you snatched me right out from under a _griffin_ ,  if that’s not bravery I don’t know what is!”

The man ducked his head modestly in the face of Merlin’s enthusiasm and Merlin decided then and there that he would do whatever he could to help Lancelot realise his dream.

“You know what?” He said, an idea taking shape. “I’m going to talk to Arthur for you right now.”

Lancelot gaped up at him.

“You know Prince Arthur?”

“Oh yes.” Merlin smirked.

He made sure the water jug and cup were in Lancelot’s reach and then headed off to the training grounds, vaguely recalling Gaius mention something about the knights using up all his green rue stores after their morning training sessions.

Determinedly he put aside all his doubts from the day before, he had made up his mind. Whether Arthur was busy, avoiding him, or had just plain forgotten, Merlin was going to find out and they were going to _talk._ And talking to Arthur about letting Lancelot join the knights was the perfect ice breaker.

As he neared the training grounds, the sounds of clanging and grunting grew louder. Merlin turned the corner and immediately spotted Arthur in the centre of a ring of knights facing off against two others. Merlin stopped and stared in something disturbingly close to awe as he watched Arthur smoothly meet each one of his opponents attacks and counter them, divesting first one and then the other of their swords.

“Are either of you even trying?” Arthur yelled as the knights retrieved their swords. “Merec you’re favouring your right side again and Brom you’re hesitating between strikes. On the battle field there is no time to hesitate! I want you sharp and balanced.” He turned to the rest of them. “We’re done for the day, Owain make sure you get that looked at by Gaius.”

A squire ran on to the field to begin removing Arthur’s vambraces for him  which Merlin took as a sign that it was now alright for him to approach the Prince.

“Arthur.” Merlin called out and the squire gaped at him until he remembered and scrabbled to correct himself. “I mean Prince! Wait no, Lord... Sire?”

Arthur rolled his eyes but was thankfully smiling and shooed away the scandalised squire.

“Hello Merlin.” He greeted.

“Hello.” Merlin answered. “So we haven’t really seen each other for a while...”

Arthur sighed and for the first time Merlin was able to see just how tired he looked, his under eyes smudged purple and his shoulders drooping under the weight of his armour.

“Yes I’m sorry Merlin, I meant to look in on you earlier but I’ve just had so much to do what with my father and Cenred—”

“Oh no it’s fine, I figured you were probably just busy.” Merlin reassured, feeling both relieved and vaguely guilty that he’d ever thought there might be another reason. “That’s why I decided to come find you instead. I actually have something to tell you as well, that is if you’re not still busy doing...”

“I have some time now, though probably best we talk in my chambers.” Arthur added, lowering his voice. “I’ll have Morris bring up two plates for lunch.”

“Does that mean I finally get to try this infamous venison of yours then?” Merlin teased as they left the training field.

“If you’re lucky, though no doubt it will be wasted on you.”

Merlin harrumphed but couldn’t stop his mouth turning up at the edges, happily settling into the familiar back and forth that he hadn’t realised he’d been missing all week.

He tried to remember all the twists and turns for next time as Arthur led the way to his chambers, trying to match up the rooms they passed with the handful he already knew inside the sprawling castle. When they reached Arthur’s rooms however, Merlin was quickly distracted by the size of it.

“Are you the only one who lives here?”

“What in these chambers?” Arthur asked from where he’d disappeared behind a screen to change. “Well they are the _Prince’s_ chambers Merlin, and I am the Prince.”

“Well yeah I know that... but it’s bigger than the cottage. You could probably fit three people in the bed alone.” He mused.

“As I said, I am the _Prince._ What did you think I slept on the floor?” Arthur scoffed, emerging in a fresh shirt and dropping down into the high-backed chair.

Merlin rolled his eyes and took the seat across from him.

“So what have you been getting up to then?” Arthur asked, lazily spinning a parchment knife between his fingers.

“Oh you know, helping out Gaius with deliveries, getting to know my way around.”

Arthur hummed, his thoughts drifting.

“Oh and then yesterday I got attacked by a griffin.”

That brought his focus back.

“What! Where was this, were you hurt?” Arthur demanded, leaning towards Merlin across the table as if he was going to check for himself.

“Oh no I’m fine, Lancelot pulled me out of the way. Got a pretty nasty slice across the ribs for his troubles though.”

“And just who is this Lancelot?”

“He’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about! See Lancelot was really hoping to join the knights of Camelot and since you’re the Prince I figured you could help him do that.” Merlin grinned.

Arthur sighed, suppressing a smile at Merlin’s eager tone. He knew that growing up the way Merlin did meant he was often rather naive about the way society worked, even more so when it came to matters of the court and nobility. By the way he was talking it seemed like Merlin genuinely thought things were that simple, and yet again it was up to Arthur to educate him.

“It doesn’t work that way Merlin, not just anyone can become a knight of Camelot, you need to have courage, fortitude, discipline—”

“Well Lancelot has all that, he saved my life.”

“That may well be but you forget the First Code of Camelot – only those of noble blood can serve as knights.”

“Oh.” Merlin frowned, slightly deflated. “Well that doesn’t seem very fair...” He groused.

“My father had good reason for creating the code.” Arthur defended weakly. “Though in times like these we need all the help we can get.” He amended.

“Cenred’s army?”

Arthur nodded, twisting the point of his knife into a knot in the grain of the table top.

“Three have failed this past week alone, I need knights to help me defend Camelot, not men that are only here to curry favour for themselves.” He said, driving the knife harder into the wood. “We know an army is going to march on Camelot, we know it’s going to happen sooner rather than later. If we are not prepared to meet them in battle, we will have to prepare for siege. My people stand to lose their homes, their livelihoods, I will _not_ have them lose their lives because my men are not the best!”

Merlin leant across the table to grab Arthur’s hand, making him drop the knife with a clatter.

“You’re not on your own in this Arthur. I came here to help you, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

Arthur heaved a sigh.

“You came to help me bring magic back to the Kingdom Merlin.”

“And to help you _save_ the Kingdom.” Merlin tugged on his hand until Arthur met his gaze and saw the determination there. “I will always be there to help you, every step of the way, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Arthur looked back at Merlin as if seeing something he never had before, and Merlin had to resist the urge to fidget because of it. Still he didn’t release Arthur’s hand until the tension around his eyes had eased up a little.

He leant back in his chair and the moment broke, both boys looking away awkwardly ignoring the still charged atmosphere.

Arthur cleared his throat and tried to bring things back to safer topics.

“So uh... Lancelot then. You said he was injured by the griffin.”

“Oh! Yes, but he’ll be alright. He’s resting in my rooms.”

Grateful for the subject change, Merlin missed the way Arthur stiffened slightly at the news.

“He’s staying in your room... with you.”

“Well he had a bit of a fever last night but I didn’t want Gaius to have to give up his bed so I let Lancelot have mine. Besides unlike _some_ people, I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.” Merlin teased.

Arthur laughed, relieved in a way he didn’t plan on examining too closely. Morris brought lunch for the both of them and talk turned towards more trivial matters. Once they’d finished eating, Merlin being one step away from licking the plate clean, Arthur felt lighter than he had all week.

Merlin got up to leave, duty waiting for each of them outside the doors, when Arthur stilled him with a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ve missed your company this week Merlin, when all of this is over, we’ll take a trip into the woods I promise. Just you and me.”

“I like the sound of that.” Merlin said.

Arthur squeezed his shoulder once before letting go. Merlin’s smile lasted him the whole way back to his rooms.

\---

He’d told Lancelot what Arthur had said about the knights as soon as he got back. Gaius had finished his rounds by then and so was able to explain things more, but understanding Uther’s reasoning didn’t make the news any less devastating for Lancelot.

That evening Merlin had asked him why he wanted to be a knight so much and the story he’d given was what was now keeping Merlin wide awake, wracking his brain for a way to make things right.

It was no use, he didn’t know enough about the way things worked in the castle yet. If he was going to fix things Merlin would need more information. And so for the second time, and dearly hoping this wouldn’t become a habit, Merlin waited until everyone was asleep and snuck out of his chambers.

Thankfully he knew his way to the Hall of Records already, Gaius’ errands included delivering books back and forth as well as herbs and potions. He only hoped the keeper wasn’t still awake. Being old friends with Gaius meant Geoffrey afforded Merlin more freedom than others, but the man still watched him too closely for comfort, never mind how gently Merlin handled the books.

All seemed quiet when he entered the stacked shelves but just in case Merlin stepped lightly, summoning the smallest flame he could in the palm of his hand, just bright enough that he could read the titles of the books.

He wasn’t sure quite what he was looking for exactly. Flipping through any knightly-looking volumes turned up mainly descriptions of battles and lists of nobility, but sadly no convenient loopholes scribbled in the margins.

He arrived in the east wing and moved from shelf to shelf, preparing himself as time dragged on that he would have to come back the next night as well, when he reached an area that by the cobwebs, seemed to be decidedly unpopular. It was tucked away in the corner so that Merlin imagined he’d need a candle to see even in daylight.

Not holding out too much hope, Merlin brought his little flame up to the spine of the nearest book only to find it blank, as was the one next to it, as were just about all of them in fact. Their titles smoothed away by age and disrepair. He craned his neck and saw a red and black book that miraculously still had its title – _The Bestiary of Gwylym of Cambria_. Merlin remembered Gaius mentioning that he had need of it and figured even if his nightly excursion hadn’t given him a way to help Lancelot, he could at least fetch this for his guardian.

Nothing was to hand for Merlin to climb up to reach the book, his only choice was to step on the bookcase itself and hope it held his weight. Extinguishing the flame so he had the use of both hands, Merlin hopped up onto the second shelf only for it to give way beneath him. Before he could jump off he heard a scraping sound and the whole wall moved, spinning around to reveal a hidden room. Merlin let himself drop and summoned a light.

Everything was coated in a thick layer of dust and while the rest of the hall was neatly organised into clean rows, dotted here and there with writing desks, in this place things lay wherever there was space to put them. It was closer to what his and Gaius’ rooms looked like except while their chambers were warm and light, this place was cold, dark and distinctly abandoned.

The space was taken up by trunks and chests alongside the books. Odds and ends were littered about as if they’d been dumped here when there was nowhere else to put them.

Cautiously Merlin picked up a book that lay flat on its shelf and brushed off the dust and cobwebs. He flipped it open to a random page and it took a moment for him to realise what he was seeing.

Words were listed in neat majuscule script surrounded by delicate borders while illuminations and diagrams took up full pages. At first glance it looked no different to one of Gaius’ textbooks, that is until Merlin started to read and the words unfolded in his mind in a swirl of gold. This was a book of magic!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter than the last one but the next update will probably be a while so enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

While the temptation had been to stay and read the book cover to cover then and there, Merlin had spent too much of the night searching for something to help Lancelot and dawn wasn’t too far off. By the time he’d snuck back into his room he only had an hour to sleep before he had to get up again.

Merlin spent most of the day distracted, his mind stuck on the hidden room and its illegal contents. Naturally in his eagerness for nightfall the day seemed to stretch on and on, and Merlin kept finding himself headed in the direction of the Hall of Records whenever his thoughts strayed from his deliveries. Once the sun had finally set, he had to force himself to wait instead of rushing off immediately like he wanted to.

The one advantage of waiting at least, was that now Merlin actually had an idea of how to help Lancelot. Provided the spell he’d spotted was as easy to perform as it was to understand. He’d slipped a piece of parchment into his bag from Gaius’ desk, hoping his guardian wouldn’t mind too much, and grabbed a thick dusty volume for reference before bee lining to the trick bookcase. Merlin couldn’t stop himself grinning when the wall spun to reveal the secret room once more, a small part of him worried that it wouldn’t be there this time, so out of place as it was in the heart of Camelot.

The book was on the shelf where he’d left it and he snatched it up and plonked himself down on the floor, giving no thought to the state of his clothes as he did so. Merlin flicked through the book until he found that first page again and carefully laid it out in front of him, then picked up the first book. It was a record of all the noble families and their lineages, Merlin had come across it before but dismissed it as useless until he found the magic book and a plan started forming. He skipped to the back of the book where some of the more distant families were listed, settling on Northumbria.

With everything neatly laid out in front of him, Merlin took as deep a breath as he could without choking on the dust and held his hand over the blank parchment. He let the words unfold in his mind again and again until he knew them by rote, then closed his eyes and concentrated. Willing his magic to the fore he whispered the spell.

_“Ic us bisen hræđ tán hwanon.”_

Merlin held his breath as he opened his eyes, then let it out with a slump at seeing the parchment as blank as before. Not about to give up after only one attempt, Merlin centred himself and tried again... and then again.

It took five goes before he felt the familiar warmth that came with performing magic and the parchment finally bore a seal of nobility bearing Lancelot’s name front and centre. With the evidence of his first ever spell right there, Merlin felt positively giddy and he had to stifle a giggle behind his palm. Carefully laying the seal aside, Merlin immediately started rifling through the magic book again, seeking out any other spells he could try his hand at.

There was all sorts of things filling the pages not just spells, though there were plenty of those as well, but potion recipes, descriptions of magical creatures, stories of the old religion. In the margins every now and then, were tips and notes added by the previous owners of the book.

Seeing the handwriting of his predecessors, the proof of other magic users, brought Merlin near to tears. All of his life he’d been so alone, separated even from those closest to him because they didn’t share his gifts. Hearing about others like him only within tales of their suffering. But here in his hands was the legacy of those with magic who were able to live and learn, and share their gifts with the world. Sorcerer’s in days gone by who lived _freely_.

Merlin tried a couple more simple spells, laughing in delight when they worked, and started searching for more that he could try next time. His attention was caught instead by a peculiar illustration. Unlike the rest of the book, this image had been done in dark grey ink with no embellishments, not even a border. It depicted some kind of serpent, but with a dozen heads emerging from the body, underneath in bold was printed the word **FOMORROH**.

There was a short description of the creature on the opposite page, just a few scant sentences as if the scribe didn’t know much about it. But what was written was enough to turn Merlin’s stomach. It read –

_The Fomorroh is a many headed snake used for imbuing a victim with an irresistible compulsion as defined by the confounder. It too supplants the victim of any independent will._

Suddenly Merlin remembered his conversation with Arthur and how stressed he was about the upcoming fight with Cenred, and then he thought about the sorcerer’s under Cenred’s control. Merlin had had more than a few nightmares about what would happen if Cenred ever did find him and his mother. His imagination turning against him in sleep as it cooked up all manner of horrifying tortures he’d be subjected to. Still a part of him had always thought that whatever pain, whatever suffering he might endure, there wasn’t truly anything that could force him to hurt innocent people. But maybe he was wrong.

But this also brought up a more promising thought. For if such things as the Fomorroh existed, magic that could supplant a person’s very _being_ , then maybe the sorcerer’s weren’t completely lost. Maybe there was a way to help bring them back, maybe Merlin could still save them!

He carefully placed Lancelot’s seal inside the book and slipped it into his bag, then stood and tried to brush off the worst of the dust. With a wave of his hand the sphere of light Merlin had left hovering above him blinked out of existence, replaced with the discrete little flame once more.

Merlin put the family records book back and slipped out of the hall silently. He hesitated then, Merlin knew he had to talk to Arthur and Gaius about what he’d found out. If he was right it could make a huge difference when it came to fighting Cenred and Merlin wondered if he should go and find Arthur immediately. Shaking his head Merlin decided to wait and turned in the direction of his room instead. It was still the middle of the night after all and no doubt the Prince’s chambers would be locked, maybe even guarded. Besides the last few days lack of sleep was starting to catch up to Merlin and his pillow was calling.

\---

“You can’t give up now!” Merlin said. “I said I’d help you and I will.”

“I don’t doubt your good word Merlin but you’ve already done so much for me, I can’t impose upon you and Gaius any longer.” Lancelot protested.

“You’re not imposing.”

“You’ve given up your bed for me.” He pointed out.

“Well I haven’t had one long enough to miss it.” Merlin laughed. “Please Lancelot just stick around for a little bit longer, I already have a plan to help you get your foot in the door. Besides I like having you here.”

Merlin had planned to give Lancelot the seal of nobility already but sharing a room with the man had its drawbacks. Fetching the seal from where it was currently tucked between the pages of a magic book certainly wasn’t going to help his efforts to keep his secret, well... secret.

Lancelot sighed, he couldn’t say no to Merlin’s beseeching smile, even if he did think the situation was probably hopeless.

“Alright Merlin I’ll stay, but will you at least let me take the floor now that I am recovered.”

Merlin grinned.

“You can sleep on the table if you like, just as long as you’re staying!” He hopped up then and grabbed his bag, the book still inside. “I’ve got a couple things to do but I’ll come find you later.”

The boys parted ways and Merlin headed to Arthur’s chambers, luckily running into Gaius on the way and convincing him to come with him.

“Merlin you must knock before entering the Prince’s chambers.” Gaius chastised him.

“But the door was open.”

“That’s not actually an excuse Merlin.” Arthur said, getting up from behind the desk by the window.

“Arthur, good you’re here. Oh, uh we should probably lock the door first.”

Gaius raised an eyebrow but turned and bolted the door before joining Merlin at the table.

“What are you up to?” Asked Arthur cautiously.

“Well after our conversation the other day I went to the Hall of Records to get a book for Gaius, and also to you know, see if there was anything interesting.” He said, pulling out the book.

“And I take it you did find something then.”

“Yes! See I was searching this bookcase and behind the bookcase was this room, a secret room, and it was full of all this stuff.”

“Secret stuff?” Arthur asked amused.

In his excitement Merlin didn’t pick up on the tone and carried on as if he hadn’t heard him.

“And everything was covered in dust, I don’t think anyone’s been in there for years. But that’s where I found this.”

Merlin opened the book and heard Gaius’ sudden intake of breath and felt Arthur stiffen beside him.

“... Is that what I think it is?” Arthur asked quietly. Merlin grinned in affirmation. “And you found it here? In the _castle?_ ”

“I know!” Merlin enthused. “And that’s not even the bit I wanted to tell you about. See it’s not just spells in here but there’s descriptions of creatures as well, one of which is this.”

He flipped to the page with the Fomorroh and turned it so Arthur and Gaius could both read.

“A Fomorroh!”

“You know of this creature Gaius?” Asked Arthur.

“I have heard of it Sire, though thankfully I have never encountered one myself. It was favoured by the High Priestesses in the days of the Old Religion. They used it to enslave the minds of their enemies for once a thought was planted within them, the victim would not stop until it was accomplished.”

Arthur shivered at the thought of being so helpless, and for a moment wasn’t sure he wanted to know why Merlin was showing them this.

“Don’t you see Arthur?” Merlin said. “Cenred’s sorcerer’s, what if this is how he’s controlling them? If we can find a way to get rid of the creature then they’d be free and Camelot would be saved.”

Arthur shook his head.

“He still has an army of men Merlin. There would still be a war.”

“But would there? You’ve said it yourself Arthur that the Knights of Camelot are the best in all the Kingdoms and Cenred knows that or surely he would have attacked already, years ago.”

“He has a point Sire, we all know King Cenred has had his eye on Camelot for decades, but only now does he march on us.” Gaius added.

Arthur frowned as he considered this.

“So how do we know if Cenred is using this Fomorroh thing?” He gestured at the book.

“The head of the snake is inserted into the nape of the neck, a dark impression will be visible beneath the skin.” Gaius explained.

Both boys looked fairly queasy at that.

“And is there a way to free them?” Merlin asked.

“I can’t say for sure, I would have to consult my books Merlin.”

Merlin turned a hopeful gaze back towards Arthur.

“I don’t know... Merlin what if it isn’t this creature. If I sent out men and they returned saying there was no sign, then what?”

“Well maybe it’s not the Fomorroh, maybe it’s something like it, an enchantment maybe or—I don’t know, but if there’s a chance to save them then we have to take it don’t we?” Merlin implored him.

Arthur frowned, the threat of Cenred had been weighing heavily on him since the moment of his return, and he couldn’t say that the sorcerer’s weren’t a large part of it. But even if what Merlin said was right and Gaius found a way to free them, that still was no guarantee that the sorcerer’s would cease to be a threat. Either way his father would hunt them down and execute them the moment he saw them. Arthur didn’t want to think about how Merlin would react whatever the sorcerer’s fate.

Then again he had to think of the safety of the Kingdom, and if there was a way to take the sorcerer’s out of the fight thereby giving Camelot the advantage then Merlin was right. They had to take it.

“There’s another patrol being sent out at the end of the week to assess the situation. I’ll send some of my best men with them and they can report back if they see any symptoms of this... thing.”

“Thank you Arthur!” Merlin grinned in relief.

He turned away to put the book back in his bag when Arthur’s hand on his wrist halted him.

“And are you going to explain this?” Arthur picked up the fake seal that had slipped out from between the pages.

“Oh, uh—yes that’s just a um...” Merlin stuttered.

“Oh Merlin.” Gaius groaned when he caught sight of the paper in the Prince’s hand.

“It’s not fair! It’s not fair just because Lancelot isn’t—and he saved my life, so I just thought...”

“I can see what you thought but this really won’t do Merlin.” Arthur chastised while Merlin looked at his boots. “For a start Northumbria isn’t a distant enough line, father knows King Eldred. You should use the Isle of Man instead, it’s small and has been conquered so many times that by the time the Court Genealogist has finished one line a new lineage owns it. You also need to add his name to the records or Monmouth will call fake.”

Both Merlin and Gaius gaped at him and Arthur smirked.

“Honestly Merlin, if you insist on breaking every law of the Kingdom, at least do it properly.”

In a daze, but with a smile gradually growing on his face Merlin packed up his things and he and Gaius left. The door shut behind them with a soft click and Arthur was left to chuckle to himself as he went back to work.

\---

It took some convincing, and a little bit of a guilt trip, to get Lancelot to go along with the plan. Although Merlin noticed that after he’d introduced him to Gwen, any objections were kept to himself.

For all that he hadn’t been in Camelot long, Merlin and Gwen had quickly bonded over his daily deliveries, always stopping to have a chat whenever they crossed paths. When they weren’t simply trading castle gossip, Gwen with all her patience and kindness had been educating Merlin on life in Camelot, with much greater success than Arthur had. Merlin hated to think how many times he would have ended up in the stocks or the dungeons for saying the wrong thing to the wrong person if it weren’t for Gwen’s guidance. She was the first friend he’d made since arriving, and was all too happy to help when Merlin turned up on her doorstep with Lancelot in tow. The fitting went smoothly, with only a little blushing and fluster for Merlin to chuckle at in the background.

Arthur had given the seal only a cursory glance to make sure Merlin had made the proper changes, sending the boy in question a knowing smile before testing Lancelot’s reactions with an unexpected jab to the chest. By the expression on his face it was mostly luck that let Lancelot stay on his feet, but Arthur had accepted him into basic training anyway, desperate as he was for more knights and trusting Merlin’s judgement. That in no way meant the Prince was going to make it easy on Lancelot, many a squire had been sent home in disgrace for not meeting Arthur’s exacting standards in basic training and Lancelot would be no exception, no matter how much Merlin fawned over the man.

After a handful of sessions with Lancelot pushing himself hard to keep up at the back of the group, he was now following the drills with a fair amount of ease while Merlin and Gwen watched from the side.

“I think it’s wonderful of you to be helping him Merlin.” Gwen said.

“Well I couldn’t have done it without you too.” Said Merlin.

“Oh that was just a bit of sewing.” She dismissed modestly. “It’s you who got him this chance, and we need people like him.”

“Do you?” Merlin teased.

“Not me, I don’t mean just me but you know—Camelot, Camelot needs people like him, knights who aren’t just—and... Oh you know what I mean!”

“ _Do_ I?”

Gwen swatted him on the arm playfully for his teasing but laughed along anyway, Merlin’s grin too infectious to ignore.

After another set of drills and a quick run to the treeline and back, Arthur called things to a close and the knights gratefully peeled off back to the armoury, some stripping off their pauldrons and hauberks as they went.

Gwen went over to help Lancelot remove his armour, and for them to blush at each other some more, Merlin thought to himself. Deciding to leave them to it, he headed over to Arthur instead.

“Honestly Morris it’s not the Gordian Knot, what is taking you so long?” The Prince berated his servant.

“I’m sorry Sire, I’ve nearly got it.” Said Morris as he picked and pulled at the laces on Arthur’s vambraces.

The boy was practically trembling out of fear and the look on Arthur’s face said he was about two seconds away from snapping when Merlin decided to intervene.

“Here let me help.” He said, taking over. “Why don’t you take that lot inside and I’ll bring up the rest in a bit.” Merlin gestured at the pile of armour next to them.

Morris just gaped at him and Arthur rolled his eyes, though Merlin’s arrival meant he no longer had the urge to throttle his servant, Morris’ incompetence was still irritating beyond belief.

“Just do as he says.” He dismissed him.

Merlin’s nimble fingers were soon untangling the mess of cord the other boy had left, and if he used a teeny bit of magic to loosen the really stubborn ones, there was only Arthur around to notice.

“I swear Merlin, I am one more dropped gauntlet away from firing him. I think even _you_ would do a better job than Morris at this point.”

“Oh thanks very much.” Merlin answered sarcastically. “Anyway Morris isn’t so bad and you can hardly blame him for being on edge at the moment.”

Arthur sighed.

“Well with Cenred and the griffin we’re all a little on edge at the moment.”

“Oh no, I meant the fact that he has to spend so much time with you.” Merlin smirked.

“Oh _very_ funny.” Arthur grabbed him in a headlock and rubbed his knuckles over Merlin’s forehead while the other boy yelped and squirmed in his grip.

He burst out laughing when he let go and Merlin pouted dramatically back at him, his hair now sticking up all over the place like a birds nest.

Arthur was reaching out to smooth it down before he knew what he was he doing. Merlin looked bemused but didn’t make a move to stop him.

They smiled fondly at each other but the moment was abruptly broken by the sound of the warning bell, echoing across the field. Arthur turned and sprinted towards the courtyard, Merlin hot on his heels. He had a second to bemoan the fact that he’d already removed his armour, picturing going up against a beast with only leather and wool between its claws and his skin, when they arrived and he realised thankfully he wouldn’t need it.

The griffin had indeed attacked and its latest victims were now staggering across the drawbridge, but the beast wasn’t here yet.

Gaius was already making the rounds with his medicine bag and Merlin ran over to help, guiding the people most in need closest to the physician and supporting those that were having trouble walking across the paving stones. Offering comforting words wherever he could.

Arthur ordered the guards in to assist and sent servants to organise accommodation and food when his father appeared at his side.

“The beast is almost here. You must prepare the knights.”

“We’ll be ready father.”

“How fare the new recruits?”

“They’re doing well, I thought I’d move up the final tests sooner rather than later, adding to our ranks can only benefit us in the coming days.”

“I agree. We will not wait any longer, this beast has menaced the Kingdom for long enough. Two days time Arthur, I want this creature finished.” He ordered.

Arthur nodded and left to find Sir Leon. It looked like Merlin’s plan was coming to an end a lot sooner than expected. He could only hope Lancelot was ready for it.

\---

Lancelot lasted the full minute against Arthur and was knighted the next day much to everyone’s relief. The celebration in his honour that night was a welcome break from the tension that had settled over Camelot. Or at least it would have been if not for the fact that it was also the first time Merlin had been in the same room as the King.

Well that wasn’t entirely true actually, Merlin had attended a couple of councils as Gaius’ apprentice. But on those occasions the King was sat on his throne, flanked by Arthur and the Lady Morgana at one end of the hall and Merlin was all but invisible stood at the other. Now however, servants and nobles were mingling and Uther was practically within touching distance.

For a moment he even made eye contact and Merlin froze like a startled deer, it was only when Morgana turned to look in his direction as well that he managed to unstick his feet and hurried towards where Arthur and Lancelot were talking together.

“I think your father might try to talk to me.” He blurted out in a panic.

Arthur raised an eyebrow and laughed.

“Merlin what?”

“He was looking at me, and then Morgana was looking at me, and I think he might actually try and _talk_ to me!”

Arthur laughed again while Lancelot just looked politely amused.

“And?”

“I can’t talk to him Arthur!”

“Why not, usually I can’t get you to stop talking.” He joked.

“Well exactly, what if I say something or do something and the next thing you know I’m locked in the dungeons and then you’ll have to be the one to tell mother and Will why they never heard from me again!” Merlin said in a rush.

Lancelot was actually beginning to look somewhat concerned but Arthur just rolled his eyes and smirked.

“Merlin just how far into the cups are you? We both know you can’t handle your drink.”

“I am _not_ drunk. I’ve only had one!”

“And that’s probably enough.”

“Oh yeah well how many have you had then?” Merlin snarked back.

“No more than I can handle, that is to say, a lot more than you.” Arthur boasted.

“So you won’t be wanting any of Gaius’ remedy tomorrow morning then.”

“Of course not Merlin, as the Prince I have an excellent constitution!” Arthur said, clapping him on the shoulder.

Merlin was naturally rather smug the next day when Gaius asked him to deliver a vial to the Prince’s chambers. The expression on Arthur’s face when Merlin threw open the curtains with an obnoxiously cheery ‘ _Rise and Shine’_ was definitely worth the goblet then thrown at his head.

He bumped into the newly knighted Lancelot as he was fleeing back to Gaius’.

“Merlin!”

“Well hello _Sir_ Lancelot.” Merlin teased, making the other man duck his head modestly. “Not feeling too delicate this morning then?”

Lancelot laughed.

“Mm, two yards of ale did rather feel like two miles earlier. I must admit as unappetising as it seemed, Gaius’ remedy certainly worked wonders.”

“That’s usually most people’s reaction to Gaius’ remedies. Just trust me when I say you should never ask what’s in anything he gives you.” Merlin said seriously.

“I will certainly keep that in mind, thank you Merlin.” Lancelot smiled. “I don’t suppose you’ve um... seen Guinevere around have you?”

Merlin stifled a smirk and asked as nonchalantly as possible.

“Oh, why are you looking for Gwen then?”

“Oh I just— I mean I was hoping to ask— That is I wanted to ask her about my armour! Before we face the griffin today.” Lancelot stuttered.

Merlin was set to tease him some more when he heard the last bit and he was brought up short.

“Wait you’re going up against the griffin today? Oh no, I’ve just remembered I need to talk to Gaius about something.” He said, already turning away. “Gwen’s probably still down in the kitchens getting the Lady Morgana’s breakfast!” He added over his shoulder.

He burst through the door, startling Gaius into dropping the book he was holding. The physician opened his mouth, a reprimand on the tip of his tongue when he noticed the panic on his ward’s face.

“Merlin what’s happened?”

“The knights are going out to fight the griffin today but you said it could only be killed by magic which means they’re all going to _die!_ We have to tell the King, convince him somehow to stop them riding out.”

“They ride out on the King’s orders Merlin. There is nothing that will convince Uther to rescind such an order when magic is involved... And yet magic is our only hope.”

Merlin stopped his pacing to stare warily back at Gaius.

“Wait are you suggesting... No, I can’t.” He said, tugging on his hair. “I can’t kill that creature, I don’t know how! It was only a few days ago that I did my first spell, I don’t _know_ that kind of magic.”

Gaius gently untangled Merlin’s fingers from his hair and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“I have something for you.” He said quietly.

He moved to one of the bookshelves and removed a dusty handful of tomes, then reached in and took out the one book that was hidden at the back and pressed it into Merlin’s hands.

“I meant to give this to you before... It was given to me when I was your age, but I believe it will serve you better than it ever did me.”

Merlin opened the book and gasped at the familiar writing.

“But this is another—”

“Book of magic, yes Merlin which means you must keep it hidden.”

“Gaius...” Merlin whispered through a watery smile.

“This is your destiny Merlin. Your magic is special and I know you will do incredible things with it, this is just the beginning. You can do this my boy. I know you can.”

\---

Arthur officially had too many things to worry about. The griffin was really enough on its own, and he should probably try to put everything else out of his mind given that in a few hours he would be riding out to fight the beast, with a battle strategy based almost entirely on descriptions of the creature from terrified villagers.

However the conversation he’d overheard between his father and the court genealogist had him worried about what would happen after they defeated the griffin, to the kingdom’s newest knight.

It seemed that Lancelot’s earnest charm that had won over most of the castle, Arthur grudgingly included, hadn’t convinced his father who had ordered Sir Geoffrey to examine Lancelot’s seal of nobility. Guilt over deceiving his father was tempered with a certain amount of smugness when Geoffrey reported back that the seal matched the records, but still his father sounded suspicious.

Arthur supposed he should have expected this on some level, after all there is no one better at spotting those of a noble upbringing than other nobility, and Lancelot was no true nobility. The good news was that as long as the records matched, the King had no proof of any breach of the First Code and so couldn’t really _do_ anything. Still, Arthur thought, perhaps after they’d dealt with the griffin it would be best to send Lancelot out with the patrols and out from under his father’s attention.

On top of all of that he still had Cenred to worry about, as well as figuring out a way to bring magic back to the Kingdom, ideally without usurping his father in the process. Oh and of course he couldn’t forget the little matter of keeping Merlin alive in the meantime.

That last one was admittedly easier when he could keep an eye on Merlin, which was difficult enough when they were in the woods never mind here in Camelot while Arthur was busy with all his princely duties.

No sooner had Merlin crossed his mind than the boy in question was running towards him down the corridor.

“Arthur! Where are you going?”

“To kill the griffin Merlin.”

“Yes but are you going right now?”

Arthur frowned, not sure what Merlin actually wanted.

“I will be just as soon as you move out of the way so I can get to the armoury.”

“OK, good, yes, fine. I’m coming with you, let’s go.” Merlin announced.

He turned to go back the way he came but the Prince grabbed his arm before he could.

“What? Merlin no, you can’t come with me, you’re not a knight!” Arthur spluttered.

“Well... I’m the physicians apprentice so we’ll just say I’m there to patch you lot up afterwards, now let’s go.”

“Merlin that’s not what I meant, I meant that you’re not—"

“The griffin is a magical creature, and only magic can kill it so unless you’ve been hiding things from me, you can’t do this without me.” Merlin hissed.

Very aware that they should not be having this conversation in the middle of the hallway, Arthur steered Merlin into the closest empty room and shut the door firmly behind them.

“I’m going Arthur.” Merlin stated.

“No you’re not.”

“For goodness sake, you brought me to Camelot to help you so let me do it!”

“I brought you here to help me save the Kingdom Merlin, not to be killed by a winged monster!” Arthur growled.

“And if you face that ‘winged monster’ without me you’ll die and there won’t _be_ a Kingdom to save! I’m going with you Arthur and that’s all there is to it.”

Arthur gritted his teeth in annoyance, desperate to keep Merlin safe in the castle but the stubbornness in every line of his friends’ posture told him it was a losing battle. Sighing he opened the door and they both carried on towards the armoury.

“How are you going to help exactly when you can’t _do_ anything in front of the knights.” He added snippily.

“...I’m still working on that bit. I’ll figure it out on the way.” Was the less than reassuring answer.

Arthur did his best to ignore Lancelot’s worried expression when Merlin saddled up next to them. He had an idle thought that perhaps Lancelot might try to talk Merlin into staying behind, and was a strange mix of stressed and gratified when it looked like the knight wasn’t having any more luck than Arthur had.

Once the tracks they were following veered off the path and onto more uneven ground, they tied up the horses and continued on foot. Arthur leading the way with Merlin half a step behind on his left.

The plan of attack once they found the griffin was for the knights to encircle the beast and attack from all angles, keeping it from singling out any one victim until it succumbed. In theory at least, the knights would all be completely focused on the beast and wouldn’t notice when Merlin, hiding at a safe distance in the trees, enchanted Arthur’s spear. The high of victory would be suitably distracting enough for Merlin to then sneak back to the horses ahead of them without drawing attention to himself.

That _was_ the plan at least, except as it turned out they didn’t find the beast so much as it found them. Announcing its presence with a furious screech and a charge that knocked half of the knights off their feet.

Arthur shoved Merlin in the opposite direction then rallied the men to him. Merlin hadn’t gone more than a few steps away from the battle when a gurgling scream turned him around. The griffin had reared up on its back legs and lashed out, catching one of the knights with a razor sharp talon. Merlin watched with terror as blood sprayed from the man’s neck even as Arthur tried to pull him out of the way.

Arthur was shouting commands as the group closed ranks around the wounded knight until they could get him into the trees, and the only thing stopping Merlin from running in and helping was the fact that Arthur was now drawing the griffin’s attention towards himself instead.

The griffin lunged and flapped its wings violently, trying to knock the Prince off balance, when another knight struck its flank with his sword which shattered on impact. The knight barely had a second to stare in horror at the broken fragments of the blade when the beast sent him flying with a kick.

Merlin crept closer, trying desperately to keep track of Arthur as he danced back and forth, jabbing at the griffin with his spear then leaping out of the way of the vicious beak and claws. Another pair of knights were knocked aside and the remaining men were become desperate as they lunged and dodged.

Merlin was barely out of sight but knew he had to risk it before they were all killed. Concentrating fiercely he brought his magic to the surface and repeated the incantation he and Gaius had found in the book.

“ _Bregdan anweald gafeluec.”_

Nothing happened and so he tried it again, risking raising his voice a bit more, hoping it would still be covered by the sound of the battle.

“ _Bregdan anweald gafeluec!”_

Still nothing, and Merlin was starting to panic. He considered just trying to blast the griffin with his magic when one of the knights misjudged a jab and started to topple forwards right into the path of the griffin’s trampling feet. He was pushed out of the way at the last second by Lancelot who received a talon raked across his shield arm in the process. Arthur yelled Lancelot’s name as the knight dropped his shield, his face twisted in pain and before he even knew what he was doing, Merlin stepped out from behind the tree, thrust out his palm and shouted the incantation again.

**“ _Bregdan anweald gafeluec!”_**

The magic shot out of him like an arrow leased from a bow and the air around Arthur’s spear shimmered a light blue. Hearing Merlin’s shout Arthur lunged forward with all of his strength and thrust the spear into the griffin’s chest, killing the beast in an instant.

\---

After making sure the griffin was definitely dead, Arthur scanned the treeline for Merlin, relaxing when he couldn’t see anyone. If he’d heard Merlin shout then it was likely the rest of the knights – the conscious ones at least – did too. He could only hope that the helpful mix of battle exhaustion and tending the wounded would keep them suitably distracted from thinking too hard about it.

He checked Sir Dearg first but knew even before he felt for a heartbeat that he wouldn’t find one, the beast’s talon had sliced across the knight’s vulnerable neck and he’d likely bled out in a matter of minutes.

Sir Tor was still standing thanks to Lancelot and was now hovering unsure over the older knight, trying unsuccessfully to communicate his gratefulness while also helping him put pressure on his wound. Arthur noticed Lancelot grimacing in pain as Sir Tor inexpertly grabbed at his arm, and walked over to intervene before Tor could make things worse.

“Tor, go and fetch Merlin and bring the horses. We need to get these men back to the castle quickly.” He ordered, then went back to checking on the knights who were only now beginning to come round.

Lancelot gave him a weak smile in thanks but otherwise, Arthur was confused to note, was periodically shooting him wary glances out of the corner of his eye. He straightened up when Merlin arrived with armfuls of bandages, and for a moment Arthur panicked that Lancelot had noticed the magic after all.

As Merlin fussed over each of the men, putting all of his, admittedly limited at this point, medical training to the task Arthur noticed that Lancelot was actually positioning himself between Arthur and Merlin as much as possible. It looked like if he _had_ noticed something he was definitely on Merlin’s side. Slightly insulting towards Arthur perhaps, but mainly the Prince was just relieved to have another knight watching over Merlin for when he couldn’t.

Once they returned to the castle a funeral pyre was immediately arranged for Sir Dearg and the King announced that a feast would be held in honour of his sacrifice the next evening.

Arthur who had been looking forward to a time of respite before the next disaster arrived, supposed he should be happy that the King hadn’t called for a feast that night instead and after graciously accepting his father’s praise, he slipped away to check on the rest of his men.

\---

It wasn’t until a few hours after nightfall that Gaius was done checking over all the knights, and at long last Merlin allowed himself to collapse into a chair, weak with relief that he’d actually done it.

He opened his eyes when a delicious smelling bowl was placed in front of him, and grinned when he saw what was in it.

“You made my favourite!”

“Well you deserve it my boy.” Gaius smiled proudly. “I may be the only one to say it but well done.”

Merlin smiled toothily and happily dug in to the stew, only now realising how hungry he’d been. There was a twinge of guilt floating in the back of his mind that he had not been able to save Sir Dearg, but for now Merlin was happy to let the comforting warmth of good food and good company work its own kind of magic and send him off to sleep happy.

Lancelot had been given his own chambers in the castle when he was knighted, but the wound he’d attained saving Sir Tor had bled heavily so he was back to sharing Merlin’s room where Gaius could keep an eye on him overnight. Merlin was surprised to find his friend still awake when he snuck in later that night and said as much.

“Gaius has done an excellent job as always, I feel fine.” Lancelot said quietly. “Besides I wanted to speak to you.”

“Oh?” Said Merlin, making up his bed on the floor.

“Well I wanted to thank you really.”

“What for? Like you said Gaius did the work in stitched you up, I just put on the bandages.”

“No, well that as well, but that’s not what I meant.”

Merlin frowned at Lancelot’s profile above, listening to the bedding shuffling as Lancelot turned on his side to face him.

“I know it was you who really defeated the griffin Merlin. I heard you. I saw you.”

Merlin froze as ice flooded his veins, wide awake as panic gripped his heart. He opened his mouth to say something, to deny it, to explain, anything but nothing came out but ragged breathing.

Hearing this Lancelot climbed out of the bed and Merlin tensed, but the knight just crouched down next to him and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Merlin calm down, you don’t need to worry, I won’t tell a soul.”

“Lancelot I—”

“After all you’ve done for me, I swear to you Merlin I will keep your secret safe. I’m only sorry that you won’t be recognised for what you did today.”

Hearing the true regret in Lancelot’s voice allowed Merlin to start to relax again.

“I don’t mind so much really... and thank you.” He whispered.

His eyes had since adjusted enough that he could see Lancelot’s kind smile before the man climbed back into bed. They said their good nights and Merlin finally let his exhaustion pull him under even while his mind was still buzzing.


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin had expected Arthur’s reaction to be even worse than Gaius’ when he told him that Lancelot had found out about the magic. Gaius had been worried and lectured him once again about being careful and Merlin had braced himself for the same sort of thing only angrier, and possibly involving things thrown at his head from the Prince, but was pleasantly surprised. Arthur had sighed and given him a _look_ but admitted he’d suspected Lancelot might have known but didn’t think they needed to worry about it too much.

Merlin had come away happy and relieved, that is until he bumped into a doleful looking Gwen who told him that Arthur was sending Lancelot away in a few days time. Which naturally lead to Merlin angrily marching back to the Prince’s chambers to give him an earful.

“You’re sending him away?” He yelled upon bursting through the door.

Arthur blinked in shock from where he was taking off his boots.

“Who?”

“Lancelot!” Merlin yelled. “You said he was a good man, that we didn’t need to worry about anything. What were you just saying that until you could get him out of the way?”

“Merlin would you _calm down_ and tell me what exactly you’re talking about please.”

“Are you, or are you not sending Lancelot away from Camelot?” Merlin said with a frown.

“I’m sending him out on patrol if that’s what you’re blabbering on about.”

“Come on Arthur, he’s barely been here long enough to settle in, he’s still healing from the griffin attack and you’re _still_ sending him on patrol. And I suppose it’s just coincidence that this is happening right after I told you that he knew about me. I trust him even if you don’t!”

Arthur sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose where he could feel the beginning of a headache emerging.

“Fine, fine. Sit down and I will attempt to explain things to you. Don’t worry I’ll use simple words.” He said.

Merlin scowled but came and took a seat next to him on the bed.

“First of all, Lancelot is now a knight, and I would not have made him a knight if I didn’t trust him. Ah-ah! Don’t interrupt me Merlin, just listen alright. Secondly, it’s not just any old patrol I’m sending him out on, it’s one where the _actual_ plan is to cross into Essetir and gather intelligence on Cenred’s movements. It’s made up of only my most trusted knights, and I’d already planned on sending Lancelot with them before we fought the griffin. Satisfied?”

“... So you’re not just trying to get rid of him then?” Said Merlin sheepishly.

“No Merlin, I am not trying to get rid of him.”

He bit his lip and fidgeted uncomfortably, he really needed to learn to stop jumping to conclusions. If for no other reason than it gave Arthur an easy opening to tease him.

“How did you even find out? I only told Lancelot a few hours ago.”

“Gwen told me.” Merlin shrugged. “She was upset about it, they’ve grown close lately.”

“Oh have they indeed?”

Merlin hummed and stared at his feet, clicking the heels of his boots together. He cleared his throat but didn’t look up when he muttered an apology.

“Sorry for shouting at you.”

Arthur sighed.

“Don’t worry about it Merlin, at this point I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” He said around a yawn.

“I can’t tell if that’s an insult or not.”

“Me neither to be honest. It’s been a long day.”

Merlin nodded, weariness beginning to creep in on him as well, then finally remembered that Arthur had been preparing for bed when he burst in on him.

“Oh right! I should go so you can sleep and things.”

Arthur watched fondly as Merlin fluttered around, absent-mindedly picking up clothes and putting out candles on his way out. With a quick ‘sleep well’ thrown over his shoulder, he closed the door quietly after him as if to make up for bursting in earlier, and Arthur listened as his footsteps drifted away.

He’d make a half decent manservant, Arthur thought to himself as he climbed under the covers, at least as long as he kept his mouth shut.

\---

His father’s scout returned the next day, confirming that Cenred would reach Camelot at the end of the month but with no more information than that. Luckily his chosen men were set to leave already and Arthur was confident they would be more successful.

It grated to send his best knights away from Camelot when danger was almost at their doorstep, even if the danger was the reason they had to go, but Arthur would trust no one but his best for the job. Gaius had drawn up a list of things that might indicate enchantments and compelling magic, which the Prince had passed on to Sir Leon to share with the knights. He’d told his father that there had been rumours of Cenred having some kind of magical weapon but had purposely left it vague in case Merlin was right about the sorcerer’s and there was still a chance to save them.

Later Arthur had taken Lancelot aside and explained Merlin’s theory and the significance of Gaius’ list in more detail, and was relieved to see the pinched look the knight had been wearing since the griffin finally disappear as Arthur spoke candidly about Merlin’s magic.

Lancelot wasn’t the only one who had been giving him sideways looks of late however, as Morgana had taken to glaring at him whenever they crossed paths. Arthur had watched the last of the knights ride over the drawbridge and had been looking forward to a nice hot bath in his chambers when the scowling got too much. He turned to face Morgana where she was standing at the top of the main staircase ready to find out whatever he’d apparently done wrong now.

“What is it?” Arthur asked once he was on level with her. “Spit it out, whatever it is.”

“Well I was just wondering Arthur how anyone could ever think it’s possibly alright to not bother paying their servants.” She sniped sarcastically.

Arthur frowned, none the wiser.

“What are you talking about?”

“ _Merlin,_ Arthur! I’m talking about Merlin and how for some reason you think it’s perfectly fine not to pay him for cleaning up after you! Explain that to me if you would.” Morgana yelled.

If anything Arthur just found himself more confused.

“Merlin doesn’t clean up after me, he’s Gaius’ apprentice not my manservant Morgana.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes really.”

“OK then Arthur, answer me this.” Morgana folded her arms and raised her chin. “Who brought you your breakfast this morning?”

“Well... Merlin did but that’s not because—”

“And how often has he brought you your breakfast this week?”

Morgana didn’t wait for him to answer before carrying on.

“Oh and who was it sat on the side sharpening your sword while you were training the knights?”

“No, now hold on a minute, that was Morris who was teaching him about weapons and Merlin just kind of took over.”

“And how many of Morris’ duties has Merlin just kind of taken over then? When was the last time you even saw Morris? I can tell you that the last _I_ heard about Morris was when he was telling Gwen how happy he is in his new position working in the stables.”

The anger was still there but Morgana was beginning to sound smug more than anything. It was irritating beyond belief, especially as Arthur grudgingly accepted, she might actually have a point.

“OK fine, but it’s not as if I told Merlin to do any of those things, he just started _doing_ it!” He defended.

“Well of course he did Arthur, because he is a sweet, kind, helpful person. But the point is that Merlin is doing all of the work of a manservant, _your_ manservant, and he’s not even getting any thanks for it because you’re too self-involved to even notice.” She spat, the anger brewing up again. “Either start paying Merlin for his work, or tell him to stop, but whatever you choose I am not going to let you take advantage of Merlin’s sweet nature anymore.”

She stormed back into the castle then with her head held high and Arthur was left spluttering on the steps.

Arthur didn’t take advantage of Merlin’s nature, sweet or otherwise. Alright so _maybe_ Arthur had gotten used to Merlin bringing him his breakfast every morning and helping him with his armour, and _perhaps_ he got a little irritated whenever Merlin wasn’t the one to wake him up or tie his vambraces. But that didn’t mean Arthur expected him to do such things... Of course not.

Merlin probably didn’t even realise what he was doing growing up in the woods as he did just him and Hunith, he was used to filling his days with chores and odd jobs, whatever needed doing. In fact Arthur wondered if Merlin even understood the concept of payment for work. The boy was so naive he was probably being taken advantage of left right and centre, doing other servants jobs for them thinking he was just being helpful only to find himself exhausted and out of pocket!

Well no longer. Once again it fell to Arthur to look after Merlin, to save him from his own friendliness even if that meant giving him an official position in the royal household as the prince’s personal manservant. So be it.

\---

Merlin meanwhile was dealing with his own problems, the main one being that dragons apparently were incapable of giving straight answers.

He supposed he could sort of understand. Being imprisoned in a cavern for twenty odd years probably meant you had to take whatever entertainment you could make for yourself. But sympathy was hard to hold on to when your mounting frustration was the source of entertainment.

“... So does that mean you _don’t_ know, or you do but you can’t tell me?” Merlin asked after Kilgharrah finished proclaiming.

“There are several beings young warlock, that possess a view into the future. I am such a being. But there are none who can see it in its entirety, only glimpses of significance.”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say that’s a no then.” Merlin sighed. “I just miss them, it feels like an age since I saw my mother.”

Kilgharrah didn’t say anything in response and Merlin wondered if the dragon was thinking about his own family. Assuming that dragons had families, or perhaps they were more like the grass snakes that lived by the river, laying their clutch of eggs and then moving on to the next place. He didn’t want to ask though, just in case Kilgharrah would be offended.

“Well I better be off then. Gaius is probably wondering where I am.” Merlin said, getting up and stretching. “I’ll see you soon Kilgharrah.”

The dragon nodded and Merlin waited until he’d flown up and out of sight before leaving himself. He hadn’t really believed that Kilgharrah could tell him anything about his mother and Will but it didn’t hurt to ask. Really Merlin should be more concerned about his own safety with Cenred and his army on the way. But when the scout had ridden through the city gates that morning with the news and the whispering had started, all Merlin could think of was how close to Ealdor the King would be passing.

The fact that he hadn’t gotten a chance to spend much time in the woods since before the whole griffin business certainly didn’t help either. In amongst all his worrying about the future, his family and friends, Camelot, and this supposed great destiny the ever cryptic Kilgharrah talked about all the time, what was really getting to Merlin was simply missing _home_.

Merlin had been in Camelot long enough now to get used to the noise and the bustle, part of him had even grown fond of it, the constant reminder of other people all around. But still there were times when all he wanted was for the sound of the river splashing against the clay banks, the rustle of the leaves, and the familiar thrumming song of the willow tree.

The woods around Camelot had a different rhythm to Merlin’s forest, but he had yet to look properly for singing trees. He hoped that once he’d found one things would feel more like home. Merlin promised himself that the first chance he got he was going down to the woods to explore, in fact he might even go today if Gaius didn’t have any more work for him.

And so it was with renewed energy that Merlin stepped out into the courtyard that afternoon on his way to check in with Gaius. And perhaps if he’d managed to do so he would be going to bed that night feeling content, perhaps if it wasn’t at that moment that a terrified voice had called out to Merlin in his mind saying one thing.

_Help me!_

Merlin staggered in surprise. The voice echoed in his head the same way the dragon’s did but this wasn’t Kilgharrah calling. This was the voice of a child.

_Please!_

Whoever they were they had to be close and Merlin tried not to be too obvious as he scanned the courtyard.

_They’re searching for me._

Merlin watched as a pair of guards jabbed at the hay piled up in the back of a cart, while others called back and forth as they searched.

_They’re going to kill me!_

There! Crouched under the lip of a stone ledge was a young boy in a blue cloak, grasping his arm as if it pained him. Merlin retreated back in to the doorway that he’d just emerged from and focused back on the boy. He’d never tried talking _back_ to someone in his mind, and he only hoped this would work.

_Get ready, when I tell you, run to me as fast as you can._

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief when the boy nodded. He peered around the stone arch and waited until the guards were all facing the other way before calling out.

_Now, run!_

The boy sprinted across the paving stones, one hand still holding his injured arm, and the moment he was within reach Merlin took hold of his shoulder and ran, his heart jumping into his throat when he heard the shout of a guard just as they turned a corner.

He heard footsteps behind them and hurried the boy up a winding staircase and through thankfully empty corridors until they reached a familiar set of doors, bursting through into Arthur’s chambers and slamming the doors behind them.

“Quick, in here!” Said Merlin, leading him into the unused antechamber.

He crouched protectively over the boy as they hid in the corner of the room, listening as guards hurried by looking for them. Closing his eyes Merlin let his magic sink through the walls, amplifying the sound the same way he did to hear nature’s songs. Only when things outside were silent did he open his eyes and slump against the wall.

Still breathing heavily Merlin checked on the boy and frowned at seeing how pale he was, a white-knuckled grip still around his right arm.

“Is your arm hurt?” He asked gently. “Will you let me see?”

The boy said nothing but relaxed his hold and didn’t protest when Merlin gently pulled aside his cloak, exposing a nasty red slash just below his shoulder.

Merlin did his best to school his features as he inspected the wound, desperately trying to conjure up his inner Gaius. First thing’s first he needed to find a way to clean and bandage it. He only hoped there was something in Arthur’s chambers that he could use.

“I’m just going to get something from the other room, I’ll be right back OK?” The boy just stared at him silently. “My name’s Merlin by the way.”

For a second the boy almost looked amused but Merlin didn’t waste time to dwell on it, instead getting up to search Arthur’s room for water and clean cloth, all the while straining to hear even the smallest sound that might mean someone was coming.

Merlin silently thanked the hard working servants of Camelot on finding a full water bucket behind the screen. For bandages he’d have to improvise however, he only hoped no one would notice the one missing pillow case before he got a chance to explain it to Arthur.

Rushing back into the antechamber, Merlin got busy ripping the linen into rough strips, dipping one into the water to start gently wiping away the reddish streaks of dried blood around the cut. The boy still didn’t say a word but flinched when Merlin cleaned out the wound itself and again while he was wrapping the bandages, Merlin muttering sorry every time he did.

“Why were they after you?” He asked softly.

The boy tugged down the top of his tunic to reveal a triskelion tattoo high on his breast bone.

“You’re a druid!” Merlin gasped. “What are you doing in Camelot all alone?”

The boy looked down and slumped like a puppet with its strings cut and Merlin realised the answer probably wasn’t something he wanted to hear any more than the boy wanted to tell him.

“I’ll do whatever I can to help you. I’ll keep you safe I promise.” Merlin swore.

\---

Arthur had been diverted on his way to give Merlin the good news of his new employment by a summons from his father. He’d then spent the following few hours reluctantly heading the search for the druid boy that was now apparently running rampant through the streets of the city.

He’d never been exactly comfortable when children fell victim to his father’s campaign against magic. It was hard to disagree when Morgana called him a monster after he’d handed over the terrified child to his father, knowing what the sentence would likely be. The King’s assertions of the dangers of sorcerer’s no matter how old was difficult to believe in the face of a sobbing child, screaming for their mother.

Now, knowing what he did, Arthur’s disgust over his own past actions was only matched by his anger at the King for his blindness. As he directed his knights as inefficiently as he thought he could get away with, he thought not of the King as his father but as a tyrant, and for the first time Arthur felt he truly understood the fear that Merlin must have felt the day they walked through the city gates.

With great relief he retired to his chambers later that day with no further sign of the druid boy. Arthur could only hope the boy had somehow managed to slip away in the commotion, if only the druid locked away in the dungeons had been so lucky.

He’d missed the evening meal by the time he’d called the search to a halt for the night, and was trying to summon the energy to call a servant to bring him something up from the kitchens when he heard a thump.

Arthur stood and quietly drew his sword from its scabbard where he’d dropped it beside the bed. He paused in the centre of the floor to listen and spun towards the antechamber at the sound of scraping, from what was supposed to be an unoccupied room. Placing his feet as carefully as if he was stalking a deer in the woods, he crept towards the door with his sword raised. At the sound of more shuffling, Arthur flattened himself against the wall, ready to strike at whoever the interloper was on the other side of the door. It opened and Arthur brought his sword up to the scoundrels throat and—

“Whoa! Arthur it’s me, it’s Merlin!”

Arthur dropped the sword as if it had burned him and cursed.

“ _Mer_ lin! What do you think you’re doing, I could have killed you!” He growled.

He missed the guilty look on Merlin’s face as he bent down to pick up his sword and put it back in its scabbard.

“Well uh— some stuff happened today and it just meant that I sort of needed to hide in here for a while.”

“Merlin what are you blabbering on about, why would you need to—” An awful thought came to Arthur then and he paled. “You don’t mean... Merlin please tell me no one saw you using magic!”

“What? No of course not, I’ve been careful Arthur, it’s nothing like that.”

Arthur sagged in relief, though it was short-lived as he considered what other reasons why Merlin might feel the need to hide in the antechamber. Technically with his new position in the household the room was his if he wanted it, but Merlin still didn’t know about _that_ little matter as Arthur hadn’t had the chance to tell him, or anyone in fact.

“So why were you hiding then? And who from?” Asked Arthur in the most level tone he could muster.

“The guards and um the knights, they were all sort of looking for me.” Merlin explained cautiously. “Well not looking for me exactly but someone with me...”

Arthur sucked on his teeth and focused very hard on the tapestry beside Merlin’s head as he put everything together.

“The guards and knights, me included, have been searching all day for the druid boy.” He said slowly and calmly. “Merlin?”

“Yes Arthur?”

“Are you telling me that the druid boy is in my antechamber right now?”

“...Yes Arthur.”

“And are you telling me that you helped hide the druid boy.”

“Yes Arthur.”

“And you chose to hide him in my antechamber.”

“Yes Arthur.”

“You do remember that I am the _Prince,_ don’t you Merlin.”

“Well exactly! Your chambers are the last place anyone would think to look.”

That admittedly was a logical point. Unfortunately it did nothing to alleviate the headache Arthur could feel building behind his eyes.

“He was calling out to me.” Merlin said quietly. “He’s just a child, and he was injured and I just... I had to do something Arthur.”

Arthur met Merlin’s earnest gaze and idly entertained the idea of smoothing out the furrow between his eyebrows with a sweep of his thumb.

“I know you did Merlin.” He sighed instead. “He’s injured did you say?”

“There’s a slice on his arm, looks like he got caught by a sword.”

Arthur winced.

“Well we’d better check on him then.” He muttered, getting to his feet.

Merlin nodded and slipped back into the antechamber, leaving the door open this time for Arthur to follow. Just as he’d said, the druid boy sat tucked away in the corner with his head resting against the wall, asleep. A flash of white around his arm peeked through the ripped fabric of the boy’s tunic where Merlin had wrapped it. The wrappings on closer inspection were rather familiar.

“Is that my ripped up bedding?” Arthur hissed.

“I needed a bandage.” Merlin whispered back unrepentant.

The boy was clearly exhausted and didn’t stir even when Arthur carefully lifted him on to the bed. He left Merlin sitting with him while he flagged down a servant to bring up two dinners and pass a message to Gaius so he wouldn’t worry.

“We can’t keep him hidden in here for long.” He said on returning.

“I know.”

“Did he tell you his name yet?”

Merlin shook his head.

“He hasn’t said a word so far.”

“You said he called to you.”

“Not out _loud.”_ Said Merlin as if that was obvious. “We just need to figure a way to get him out of the city, then we can return him to the druids.”

“That’s if we can _find_ druids to return him to.”

Merlin huffed.

“Well there must be some nearby or why would they risk coming here?”

“I could try asking the one in the dungeons I suppose. There’s no guarantee he’d tell me anything though.” Arthur mused.

“Wait, what? Who’s in the dungeons?”

“There was a man with the boy, they were separated in the chase and the man was arrested. He’s to be executed in the morning.” Arthur explained tiredly.

Merlin stared at him horrified.

“I know what you’re thinking Merlin but there’s nothing we can do. The execution is set for dawn and the guards are still combing the streets looking for him.” He gestured at the still figure on the bed.

“So we just let him die? You’re the Prince, can’t you just—”

“No I can’t. I’m sorry Merlin.”

Merlin looked like he wanted to argue some more but seemed to realise it wouldn’t accomplish anything and held his tongue. Still his eyes shone with unshed tears as he turned away from Arthur.

\---

The next morning found Merlin alone with the druid boy again. Arthur was required to attend the execution next to his father, no matter how much he wished he wasn’t.

They’d both only picked at their meals the night before and there was plenty left over for the boy, but since he’d woken up he hadn’t so much as looked at the plate. He still hadn’t spoken either, out loud or otherwise. Merlin only hoped it was because of stress and not sickness. He hadn’t felt the heat of fever on the boy’s skin but he had noticed redness around the cut which he hoped wasn’t a sign of infection.

Arthur’s window was open and they could hear the murmur of the crowd as the man was brought up to the platform. After a moment of silence the King’s voice drifted up to them and Merlin’s stomach turned at the cold threat at the end of his proclamation.

“You have let your fear of magic turn to hate. I pity you.” The druid answered calmly.

If it was possible, the boy turned even paler hearing this and they both held their breath.

The sound of the axe was overshadowed by a tortured scream and Merlin flinched when a jar on Arthur’s desk suddenly shattered. The magic hadn’t been his own but he’d felt the wave of it as it punched its way out of the now trembling boy on the bed.

Merlin wanted to comfort him but he didn’t know how, or even if he could. He still didn’t even know the boy’s name.

He listened instead as the crowd in the courtyard dispersed and the normal morning routine started up again. He wondered if Gwen had missed him in the kitchens this morning where they usually chatted while fetching the royal breakfasts. He wondered what to say if she asked him where he’d been. It couldn’t be the truth that much was for certain, Merlin figured Gwen was much too kind-hearted to not want to help, but he didn’t want to put her at risk that way. It was bad enough that he had so many people already keeping his secret, putting their own lives in danger as well as Merlin’s.

One thing Merlin was sure of though, no matter how dangerous, he was going to return the boy to his people. This boy at least would be safe from the axe.

Arthur returned a little later and Merlin was about to take the opportunity to check in with Gaius, when the chamber doors burst open and Merlin barely managed to close the antechamber door behind him before the Lady Morgana was storming in, fury emanating off her like heat.

“Morgana, now really isn’t a good time.” Arthur tried to head her off, knowing it was probably pointless.

“Oh it’s never a good time is it Arthur, not when you have _children_ to hunt down and murder.” She spat.

“That is not fair Morgana!”

“Tell that to that poor man’s family! You know just because your father tells you to do something doesn’t make it right.”

“He’s the _King.”_

“A King that just executed a man who meant no harm to anyone.”

“I’m not disagreeing with you.” Arthur muttered through clenched teeth.

Morgana was distracted before she could respond when her eye caught on the shattered pieces of the jar laying over the desk and on the floor.

“What—”

“That was my fault!” Merlin jumped in, startling Morgana who hadn’t realised he was even in the room until then. “I bumped into the table and it broke, really I should probably finish cleaning that up.”

Merlin abandoned his post by the door to start gathering up the evidence of the druid boy’s magical outburst and Arthur tried to subtly position himself between Morgana and the antechamber. Not subtle enough though as Morgana caught the movement and her gaze flickered between the two boys and the door contemplating.

Testing an idea she casually took a few steps towards the antechamber and watched how Arthur moved with her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Merlin was also paying more attention to her than the pottery shards in his hands. Another step and Arthur moved again. She narrowed her eyes at the carefully neutral expression on his face as he was nearly backed into the wall in his efforts to remain between her and the room beyond.

Nobody said a word until Merlin yelped, accidentally having sliced his finger open while not paying enough attention to what he was picking up. Arthur jerked in his direction before stopping himself, but that moment of distraction was all Morgana needed to shoulder her way past him and throw open the antechamber door. She froze in place when she saw a pair of startling blue eyes peering up at her from the bed.

She didn’t notice the rush of activity behind her as Merlin leapt up to slam shut and lock the chamber doors before anyone else could come charging in, paying no mind to the blood that was now dripping down his wrist and staining his shirt sleeve.

Arthur had slipped into what Morgana privately thought of as his battle stance, back straight and jaw clenched ready for anything, but remained silent even as he took her by the elbow and gently guided her out of the room and over to the table. Merlin was less composed as he joined them.

“Is this—” She began.

“It’s not Arthur’s fault, it’s all me, I’m the one hiding him. _Please_ don’t say anything!” Merlin interrupted.

That brought Morgana back to herself and she bristled indignantly.

“Well of course I won’t say anything, what little faith do you have in me Merlin?”

“No I didn’t mean—I just... You’re the King’s ward, Arthur’s the Prince. You’re both risking a lot.”

Morgana softened and Merlin relaxed a little.

“We’re going to try and get him back to the druids.” Arthur said.

“Well I’ll help.”

“It’ll be dangerous Morgana.” He warned.

Morgana simply raised an eyebrow in response.

“Well come and introduce me then.” She ordered.

Arthur went ahead of her and opened the antechamber door again. The druid boy was curled up in a ball, his eyes just visible from behind his knees as he watched them all file in to the tiny room.

Merlin knelt down beside the bed so that he was on level with the boy and spoke softly to him.

“Sorry about all the noise but there’s someone who wanted to meet you.” He waved Morgana closer. “This is the Lady Morgana, she’s going to help us get you back home.”

“Hello.” Said Morgana.

The boy as usual said nothing but uncurled a bit from his ball. The way he looked at Morgana held no fear but instead something like consideration.

“What’s his name?” She asked quietly.

“We don’t know.” Answered Arthur. “He hasn’t spoken since Merlin brought him here.”

Morgana frowned at the flush in the boy’s face and gently placed a hand against his forehead.

“He feels a little warm.”

Merlin bit his lip worriedly.

“He was injured, I think the cut might be infected.”

“Well we need Gaius then!”

Merlin chewed his lip harder.

“I can’t get Gaius involved with this as well... I might be able to treat it myself.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am his apprentice after all.” Merlin reasoned.

“Either way you really need to get that finger looked at.” Arthur pointed out.

Merlin had actually almost forgotten about it, but now that he considered the slice across his middle finger, it made its presence known with a sharp sting.

They agreed to meet again later to think up a plan before splitting up to do their various duties. Morgana opting to sit with the boy for a while in case he took a turn for the worse. Merlin at last was heading back to Gaius’ rooms to see what he could dig up about treating an infection on his own. And as he wrapped his bloodstained cuff over his injured finger, perhaps, Merlin thought he might see if there were any good healing spells in his magic books while he was there.


	5. Chapter 5

“If we can get him down to the burial vaults, there’s a tunnel that leads beyond the city walls. It’s a straight shot into the forest from there.”

“Except he’s not going anywhere while he’s still sick.” Morgana pointed out.

They were back in Arthur’s chambers, waiting on Merlin to return from wherever he’d disappeared off to. The boy was sleeping fitfully in the next room and they were keeping their voices low more for the sake of letting him rest, than worry that anyone might overhear their planning.

“That won’t be a problem after Merlin’s treated him. Now we’ll need horses waiting at the end of the tunnels, but there’s still the issue of actually finding the druids.”

“You really think Merlin can cure the boy?” Morgana asked worriedly.

She had had to leave briefly to return to her own rooms and had taken the opportunity to explain to Gwen what was going on. While she knew Merlin was afraid of letting Gaius in on the situation, Morgana was of the opinion that having an extra person standing by could only help, and she trusted Gwen implicitly. Unfortunately as she’d feared, when she came back the boy was feverish and sickly white, his eyes glazed over whenever he opened them.

“Well he helped cure me.” Arthur answered.

Morgana hummed thoughtfully.

“You know you’ve never told me what happened to you out there.”

“I was injured while on patrol. Merlin and his mother took me in until I was well enough to return to Camelot. You _know_ that.” Arthur frowned.

“Yes I know the basics Arthur but what I mean is you were gone for months. Most everyone was ready to declare you dead, and then you turn up with Merlin in tow, looking none the worse for wear and ever since then you’ve been... different.”

“What do you mean different?”

“Well take this for instance. Before if you discovered a druid boy hiding in the castle, you would have called the guards and handed him over to your father. And yet here you are now, hiding the boy right under the King’s nose, in your own chambers no less.”

Arthur opened his mouth to disagree but found he couldn’t really deny it. Before he might have tried to convince his father to lessen the sentence to imprisonment perhaps, but never would he have actively gone against his father’s orders, never mind breaking the law.

“And then there’s Merlin of course.” Morgana continued.

“What about Merlin?”

“Well before if anyone were to ask I’d say you would be hard-pressed to remember _any_ of the servant’s names. Aside from Morris perhaps, but even then it was usually followed by a string of orders and insults. But ever since you came back you and Merlin, a peasant boy from another Kingdom, have been practically joined at the hip.”

Arthur scoffed.

“That’s an exaggeration.”

“You spend more time with Merlin than with your knights.”

“Because my knights are—”

“You and he have a bond.”

“I don’t think—”

“Plain for all to see.”

“Now really.”

“You spent all of that time together while he was nursing you back to health and at some point something happened and it changed you. _Merlin_ changed you.”

“Well yes I guess I have changed a bit... that’s what nearly dying does to you.” Arthur bluffed.

“That might be part of it but we both know there’s more. There’s something you’re not telling me Arthur.” Morgana said staring him down.

Denying it, he knew would be pointless. Morgana knew him far too well to believe whatever he could think to tell her in place of the truth. Of all the people in Camelot, Arthur thought she would probably be the most likely to keep Merlin’s secret safe, but at the end of the day it wasn’t his truth to tell.

“I’ll find out sooner or later.” Said Morgana in response to his silence. “I might just ask Merlin about it.”

Arthur groaned.

“Leave him be Morgana. It’s not fair to subject him to your interrogating. He doesn’t have the strength for it.”

“Really now, you make it sound as if I plan on torturing him, I’m just asking a few questions.”

“A torture in itself.” Arthur muttered, then yelped when a grape bounced off his forehead.

Before he could throw it back at the smirking Morgana, Merlin finally arrived with an armful of Gaius’ healing supplies.

“About time Merlin.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Said Merlin, dumping everything on the table. “Once Gaius gets started on anatomy there’s really no stopping him.”

He scooped up a vial of something and the roll of bandages with the scissors and took it all through to the boy, who was just then stirring. The others followed him in and Morgana immediately moved to the foot of the bed, the boy’s eyes following her until Merlin’s gentle hand on his arm drew his attention.

Merlin opened the vial and they all winced in unison.

“That’s rather potent.” Arthur said in a strangled voice.

“It’s probably the garlic... or the bile.” Merlin explained as he applied the salve to the wound with his fingertips.

He cut off a length of bandage and wrapped it around the boy’s arm, deadening the smell of the ointment enough for everyone to breathe without needing to cough.

_Thank you Emrys._

Merlin startled and looked up to meet the boy’s exhausted gaze.

_My name is Merlin remember?_

He corrected gently, assuming that in his fever the boy was confusing him with someone else.

_To my people, you are Emrys._

The boy insisted. Merlin frowned in confusion but decided not to press.

“Will you tell me your name?” He whispered instead, but the boy just closed his eyes again.

“It’s like there’s something stopping him. I just don’t know if it’s fear or something else.” Said Morgana.

“In any case we still need a plan to get him out of the city. Sooner rather than later.” Arthur reminded them, ushering them back out of the room to let the boy rest.

Once they were all sat down again he outlined what he had so far once more for Merlin’s benefit.

“Well that sounds great, let’s do that then.” Said Merlin.

“Except we don’t have a plan for when we reach the forest. We can’t just wander about hoping to bump into the druids after all.”

Merlin chewed his thumb as he thought.

“Does the boy know how to get home?”

“He may do but so long as he doesn’t talk we have no way of knowing.” Morgana pointed out.

Except the boy _did_ talk, Merlin knew, but apparently no one else could hear him. Once the boy was awake he’d have to ask... only if the boy did know, Merlin would then have to come up with a very good explanation to give to Morgana on how he got such dangerous information all of a sudden.

He could ask Arthur to help him with that except that Morgana, in her eagerness to help the boy, was in earshot more often than not. Her presence also prevented Merlin from using his magic on the boy’s wound, although after Gaius’ rather graphic description of the dangers of trapping an infection while he treated Merlin’s finger, he was hesitant to try anything without the physician’s supervision. He only hoped the salve would work.

Just then, Morgana snapped her fingers as a thought occurred and pointed at Arthur.

“Hold on, Arthur wasn’t there a list drawn up a few years ago for your father?”

“Almost certainly but maybe you could be a bit more specific, there are quite a lot of lists involved in being the King you know.” Arthur rolled his eyes.

“I wasn’t finished.” She glared. “And I mean a few years ago when sickness hit and Gaius thought it might be magical so Uther started rounding up anyone suspected of having dealings with sorcerer’s and _druids._ ”

“Oh _that_ list.” Arthur breathed.

Merlin frowned, not liking the sound of that.

“You said the King rounded them up... does that mean—”

“No Gaius found out what was causing it and everyone was released before things could... develop.” Arthur hurried to reassure, knowing exactly what Merlin had been thinking. “I have the key to the vaults, that’s where father keeps the list.”

“Well give it to me, I can get it while you’re in the council chambers tomorrow.” Morgana offered.

“No, you have no reason to be anywhere near the vaults if someone catches you down there, it will be less suspicious if I do it myself.”

Morgana bristled against the suggestion that she might get caught, but let it go for now. The boy was the priority.

\---

No one could do anything until Arthur found the list but Merlin had never been one to sit idle. Luckily he’d been occupied with helping Gaius on his rounds, which thanks to all the extra security about the place took twice as long. Something the physician was decidedly less happy about.

Still Merlin was feeling antsy and longed for the woods. He hoped that it wouldn’t be too long before Uther gave up his search for the druid boy, for everyone’s sake. The King had stationed guards on every road leading out of the city with orders to check anyone leaving, while others scoured the town questioning anyone who might be harbouring the boy. The castle had been the first place searched and Merlin knew if he’d tried to hide him anywhere but the Prince’s rooms they’d have been caught by now. It was sheer luck that he’d remembered to hide away his magic books before the guards had searched his and Gaius’ rooms.

Merlin chewed his lip as he watched his guardian grinding wormwood at the table. The smell of mint already drifting up from the little cauldron that Gaius mixed his remedies in, before decanting them into vials. Guilt gnawed at Merlin for keeping things from the physician, even though he knew it was for Gaius’ own safety. And yet he was also the most knowledgeable person Merlin had ever met, and probably the only one who might be able to answer the question currently rattling around in Merlin’s head.

“Gaius have you ever heard of someone called Emrys?”

The physician frowned in thought.

“Emrys... It does sound familiar. Why?”

“Oh it’s nothing really, someone called me that the other day, I think they got me confused with someone else. I was just curious.” Merlin shrugged.

Gaius raised an eyebrow as he considered his ward who had turned his attention back to the fraying edge of the bandage on his hand. Despite his casual tone, Gaius could see the tension in how Merlin sat.

“Who was that then?”

“Hm?”

“The person you were talking to, who was it?”

“Oh uh it wasn’t anyone, they were just someone, I didn’t catch their name.” Merlin blustered, not looking up from his hands.

Gaius put down his mortar and pestle and turned to face him with his arms folded.

“Merlin why do I have the feeling that there is something you are not telling me.”

He looked up startled then quickly tried to cover it by pasting on his most innocent smile.

“I don’t know. There’s nothing going on.”

The eyebrow twitch said Gaius wasn’t buying it.

“OK there was a bit of a situation but it’s being dealt with. Me and Arthur have it under control.” Merlin conceded.

“You and Arthur.” Gaius repeated.

“Yep. There’s no reason to worry.”

“I fear there is always reason to worry when it comes to you two Merlin.” He sighed. “Just tell me it has nothing to do with the druid boy Uther’s hunting.”

Merlin’s smile dropped and he swallowed guiltily.

“You never cease to amaze me.” Gaius groaned. “Every guard in the Kingdom is looking for that boy, the _last_ thing someone in your position should be doing is getting involved!”

“I know, I’m sorry. He was calling out to me, I couldn’t just ignore him.”

“And if you’re caught it will be your head on the chopping block, not just for concealing the boy but for corrupting the Prince as well.”

Merlin couldn’t help snorting at that.

“I am not corrupting _Arthur._ ”

“That’s how the King will see it Merlin.” Gaius said seriously.

“We’re working on a plan to get him back to the druids. He won’t be here much longer then everything can go back to normal.” Said Merlin quietly.

Gaius sighed but placed a comforting hand on his ward’s head.

“I know you mean well my boy. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I promise Gaius.” Merlin swore, looking up at him with a smile.

\---

Merlin and Morgana stood shoulder to shoulder as they read the list, Morgana muttering under her breath as they considered their options. Arthur was leaning against the fireplace watching them, sipping slowly at the wine in his cup. He had already gone through it while he waited.

Merlin frowned and looked up, his eyes glazed over as he thought hard on something.

“Merlin?” Arthur asked.

Morgana turned as well when he didn’t immediately respond.

“Why does the name Forridel sound familiar?”

Morgana shook her head.

“Doesn’t ring any bells for me I’m afraid. Arthur?”

“Actually that does sound vaguely familiar.” Arthur agreed.

“Well it says here they’re suspected of consorting with druids.” Morgana pointed out, twisting the scroll around so Arthur could read it.

“And they’re from the Lower Town.” He mused.

Merlin who had been muttering the name over and over again under his breath suddenly gasped.

“The woods!” He yelled, startling the other two who stared at him in response.

“Yes, _yes!_ Arthur you remember in the woods, Forridel.”

Arthur continued to look blankly.

“With the bandits, and we heard shouting so we ran and she did that kicking and then the choking thing, and she said her name was _Forridel!”_ Merlin grinned.

It finally clicked and Arthur’s mouth dropped in realisation.

“Of course! And she mentioned something about a shortcut and then ran off.”

“Right after she recognised you as the Prince and bowed to you.” Merlin chuckled.

“That’s not actually funny Merlin, it’s what you’re _supposed_ to do when meeting royalty.” Arthur rolled his eyes.

Merlin shrugged and they shared a grin.

“I’m sorry but perhaps one of you could explain what you’re talking about please.” Morgana interrupted.

“Ah yes. It was before we reached Camelot, we ran into some bandits who were targeting a woman so naturally I intervened.”

“Not that she needed much help.” Merlin added.

“Yes well _anyway,_ the bandits were dealt with, she thanked us and left.” Arthur explained succinctly.

“And you think this Forridel and that woman are the same person?”

“Well how many Forridel’s can there be in Camelot. It must be her.” Arthur argued.

Morgana sighed and gazed at the closed door of the antechamber. Whatever Merlin had done seemed to have worked thankfully, at the very least the boy’s fever had broken some time in the night. She didn’t know a great deal about medicine but she hoped that meant he was out of danger for the moment, and really the sooner they took him out of the city the better.

“Alright.” She nodded. “I’ll pay her a visit tomorrow and see what she knows about the druids.”

“Oh, um, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Merlin asked cautiously.

“Merlin’s right, you don’t know what this woman looks like, I should go.” Said Arthur.

“Actually that’s not what I meant. I’m just thinking that if she does know anything about finding druids, she might not be very inclined to tell the King’s ward or you know, the _Prince._ ”

“... You may have a point there.”

Merlin shrugged.

“I just think it would be better if I went.” He said.

“I agree.” Said Morgana. “But wait until tomorrow, the boy could use some more rest and we need to have the plan in place if it turns out she can help.”

Merlin nodded and Arthur clapped his hands together.

“Right then. I need to get the list back to the vaults before anyone realises it’s missing.” He said, rolling it back up.

“ _Or_... we could just burn it.” Morgana suggested.

Merlin felt like he was missing something but Arthur just sighed like he knew where this was going.

“We can’t burn it.”

“Why not? No one would know and it would spare all these innocent people from the next time the King has a temper tantrum about magic.”

Merlin had to bite back a smirk at the thought of the King stomping his foot and jumping up and down like a child denied a treat by his mother at the market. Arthur was less amused.

“My father does not have _temper tantrums_ Morgana, and just how do you think he’d react to finding out the list had disappeared hm?”

“OK fine we’ll put it back. But let’s pour ink on it first.” She grinned.

“ _Morgana!”_

“Arthur come on, that way it will just look like an accident—”

“I said no! Stay here and watch the boy, Merlin and I will return the list.” He ordered.

Morgana scowled and for a moment Merlin thought she might actually leap across the room to attack the Prince like a cat on a mouse, but Arthur didn’t even spare her a glance as he dragged Merlin out by the arm.

It was only when they’d turned a few corners that he finally found his voice again.

“You know that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” He mumbled.

Arthur shushed him and after checking up and down the corridor, tugged Merlin into an out of the way alcove behind a tapestry.

“No it’s not, but I have a better one.” Said Arthur, still gripping Merlin’s arm.

“Well why didn’t you tell Morgana that instead of yelling at her?”

“Because Merlin, it involves magic.” He whispered. “What if instead of covering them up, you _change_ the names. Replace them with made up ones so the guards can’t find the real people on the list.”

Merlin hesitated.

“Arthur I don’t know. I’m still learning, I haven’t been doing spells that long I don’t know if there even _is_ a spell like that. What’s wrong with just doing what Morgana said?”

“Because even if they did assume the ink was an accident, there’s nothing stopping my father from having another list made. At least if we change the names it won’t be immediately obvious that there’s anything wrong and we can buy ourselves some time to think about what to do next.”

“Well... that does make sense, but I still don’t know how to do that.” Merlin fretted.

“How did you make Lancelot’s seal?”

Merlin frowned in confusion.

“Uh, I just copied one I found in a book and put Lancelot’s name on it.”

“Well can’t you do a similar sort of thing here?”

Merlin shifted uncomfortably.

“Why don’t you just try one to start with. Look here do this one, Thomas Fletcher, suspected of supplying herbs used for magic charms.” Arthur said, tapping the next name under Forridel.

“Wait... he’s a suspect just because he sold some herbs?”

“Well it was probably more who he was selling _to_ , but that doesn’t matter just try the spell.” He said, shoving the list into Merlin’s hands and leaning over to check the corridor was still clear.

“Hold on Arthur, what name do I put instead?”

“Uh... Lud Leir, put that.”

“How do we know no one else in Camelot has that name though?”

“Because Lud and Leir are both long dead Kings, now get on with it before someone comes this way!”

Merlin took a deep breath and summoned up the spell he’d used before. Luckily the wording hadn’t been too specific and he hoped that meant it was down to his intent more than the words themselves. While he still had to concentrate more than when he used his instinctual magic, Merlin found that once he had a spell working the first time it came much easier the next time he used it. So it was without too much effort that he recited the words and let his magic bleed into the parchment.

He beamed at Arthur when it worked, only to find the Prince already watching him with an odd expression on his face that had Merlin feeling oddly self-conscious.

“You know your eyes turn gold when you do that.” Arthur said thoughtfully.

Merlin hummed, not sure what to say, and fidgeted on the spot until Arthur seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts and bade him to do the rest of the list while he stood guard.

Apart from a couple of interruptions when a servant or a guard passed by them, and Merlin held his breath as Arthur pushed him deeper into the alcove with a gloved hand over his mouth, the rest of the list went fairly quickly.

The parchment was rolled up and tucked back into Arthur’s shirt and with a friendly squeeze of Merlin’s arm, he slipped out of the alcove and headed back down to the vaults. Leaving Merlin behind to enjoy the warm and satisfying feeling of using his magic to help.

\---

The next morning Merlin skipped breakfast with Gaius, only grabbing a crust of bread on his way out. Hopefully he’d be early enough to catch Forridel at home before she left to do... whatever it was she did.

The security had gotten looser the more days that passed since the hunt for the druid boy started, but to Merlin’s dismay there were still a few scattered guards keeping an eye out in the lower town, which he did his best to avoid just in case. He’d had to ask someone which house was Forridel’s but luckily the man had recognised him as Gaius’ apprentice, and assumed he was there as part of his training, something Merlin was happy to run with.

No one answered when he knocked on the door, but just as he was thinking it had been long enough to knock again without seeming rude he heard a clatter from inside.

“Hello?” He called out, pressing his ear to the door.

Still there was no answer and Merlin began to worry that there was something wrong. Without really thinking it through he unbolted the door with a flick of his magic and went inside. Nothing looked disturbed as Merlin looked around, and if it wasn’t for the prickle at the back of his neck he’d be kicking himself for breaking into someone’s house over a noise he probably imagined. As it was he looked up just in time to catch the reflection in a mirror of the woman from the woods standing behind him with a fire iron held above her. He span round with his hands up defensively before she could bring it down on his head.

“Wait, wait please! I’m sorry, I thought I heard a noise so I—but that doesn’t matter. Are you Forridel?” Merlin said in a rush.

The woman eyed him suspiciously, her grip on the fire iron not wavering.

“Who’s asking?”

“My name’s Merlin. We’ve actually met before, in the woods while you were battling some bandits.”

The woman thought for a minute and Merlin knew she’d remembered when her eyes widened and panic flashed across her face briefly before she locked it away.

“You were with the Prince.” She stated bluntly.

“You are Forridel then.” Merlin confirmed with a grin, which he quickly dropped when the fire iron was pointed at his throat.

“What does the Prince want with me?” Forridel growled.

“Please, you’re not in any danger, we just need your help!”

“Who’s we?”

“Me and Arthur, and... the druid boy.”

Forridel jerked back in surprise, letting the fire iron drop down to her side.

“We can get him out of the city but to get him back to his people, we _need_ to find the druids.”

“I don’t know anything about the druids.” She said too quickly in response.

“You don’t need to lie to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“OK.” Said Merlin gently. “I know you have no reason to trust me. But for what it’s worth I swear on my life that I’m telling the truth. I just want to help get him home.”

Forridel studied him closely and he tried not to fidget under her steady gaze. Whatever she saw in him seemed to satisfy her as she finally put the fire iron down on the table beside her.

“If you _are_ telling the truth you are taking a great risk hiding him.”

Merlin shrugged modestly. He wasn’t the only one.

“I’ll tell you what you need to know. But I want to see the boy first.” She conceded.

“Oh, um yes that sounds fair. Do you want to go now?”

“In broad daylight. We’ll be seen surely.”

“Well that’s alright, if anyone asks we can tell them you need to visit the physician.” Merlin said brightly.

Forridel frowned.

“Do you mean to say you’ve hidden the boy in the physicians chambers?” She asked doubtfully.

“Oh no he’s in Arthur’s chambers but it makes more sense if we say you need to see Gaius.”

“He’s in the _Prince’s_ chambers?”

“Well it’s the one place the guards never think to check.” Merlin explained a bit defensively in response to her horrified expression.

She backed away shaking her head.

“No. I’m sorry but you can’t expect me to believe that the Prince is hiding the boy. He’s no different from his father when it comes to magic.”

“But he is!” Merlin protested. “Look I haven’t known Arthur all that long and I don’t know what he was like before, but I do know that he’s a good man. He wants to protect his people. _All_ his people.”

“You call him Arthur.” She said speculatively. “He is a Prince, you are a peasant, and yet you keep calling him Arthur.”

Merlin shrugged again and tried to offer an encouraging smile when Forridel turned back to him.

“Alright, take me to the boy.”

Relieved as he was, Merlin didn’t notice when Forridel slipped a knife into a hidden pocket of her dress on their way out. Instead he thought about how far along the other two had gotten in putting the plan in place, and whether the druid boy was truly well enough to travel yet.

Only when they were a staircase away from Arthur’s rooms did it occur to him that the Prince might not be very happy about Merlin bringing Forridel in. Ultimately though they needed her help, and if this was the only way to get it then what choice did they have. At least he remembered to knock this time.

He had a brief moment to kick himself when the Lady Morgana opened the door and Merlin realised he hadn’t mentioned her involvement, but Forridel seemed to take it in her stride. Curtseying when Merlin introduced her and keeping her head bowed respectfully even when Morgana hurried them inside.

“How is he?” Merlin asked.

“He’s healing. He even said my name.” Said Morgana smiling.

“He did?”

“Yes. He hasn’t said anything else since though.” She turned to Forridel and took the woman’s hands in her own. “Thank you so much for helping us.”

“Of course my Lady.” Said Forridel, taken aback a little by the sudden contact. “May I see the boy now?”

Morgana smiled again and lead the way into the antechamber, taking her usual seat on the bed beside the boy.

“There’s someone here to see you.” She told him gently. “Don’t be afraid, they’re going to help us.”

She ran her fingers soothingly through his hair as he smiled up at her, then she waved in the pair who were hovering in the doorway.

Merlin had to catch himself on the door frame before he bumped into Forridel when she suddenly stopped half way into the room.

“Mordred!” She whispered, and the boy’s face lit up in recognition.

To their surprise he immediately detached himself from Morgana’s side and shuffled across the bed with his arms out while Forridel moved to meet him in a relieved hug.

“I take it you know each other then.” Said Merlin.

“This is Mordred, he’s part of Iseldir’s camp.” Explained Forridel. Her voice muffled from where she buried her face in the boy’s hair.

She pulled away so that she could take his face gently in her hands.

“Does that mean the man they caught. The one they... Cerdan?” Mordred dropped his gaze in answer. “Oh Mordred I’m so sorry.”

There had been no more smashed pottery since that first outburst but Merlin still tensed, the memory of an agonised scream ringing in his ears. They all sat in quiet mourning for a minute or two before Merlin couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

“Have you heard anything from Arthur today?” He asked Morgana.

“Not yet, but I believe he had another meeting with the council this morning so he won’t be back until midday.”

Morgana seemed to sense the tension in the air at the mention of the Prince. It was clear Forridel wasn’t convinced that Arthur was truly acting against his father, for all that they were currently hiding in his chambers. She wondered if that suspicion extended to her as well, being the King’s ward, though she liked to think the people of Camelot knew her to be more tolerant than that. At least enough to know she would never condemn a _child_ , no matter what they’d done or who they were.

Morgana wasn’t ignorant however of what a big risk Forridel was taking in helping them, and so she graciously chose to leave just in case her presence was making the woman feel even more uneasy.

“I’ll ask Gwen to stop by with something to eat later.” She told Merlin in passing.

Her polite smile morphed into a more genuine one when the boy – Mordred – smiled back.

Once the door clicked behind her, Forridel turned back to Merlin looking determined.

“Tell me the plan. How are we going to get him out?” She ordered.

“Oh! Uh it might be best if we wait for Arthur to explain—”

“Do you not know the plan?” Forridel interrupted.

“I do!” Merlin assured. “But Arthur has all of the details.”

“Tell me what you know then.”

Merlin hesitated but her tone didn’t leave much room for argument.

“Alright, well Arthur says there’s a tunnel in the burial vaults that leads outside the city walls. So he was going to take Mordred down there and then I’d meet him at the other end with a horse and supplies, and with your help, he then delivers him back to the druids.” He summed up quickly.

It sounded like a good plan to him but Forridel was frowning.

“The Prince will take Mordred to the druids?”

Merlin nodded.

“I can ride. It makes more sense for me to take him.” She announced.

It sounded reasonable enough and yet something about the way it was said gave Merlin pause. He glanced down at Mordred who was sat placidly in Forridel’s lap, silently watching their conversation.

“Arthur will look after him.” Merlin said slowly.

“No. I will take him home.” She repeated firmly.

He bit his lip, unsure how to react. He had a feeling Arthur would argue, the risk of getting caught too high. But from the look of it Forridel was not to be dissuaded. Sensing his discomfort her expression gentled.

“Look, I appreciate what you’ve done. It was brave and you seem like a good person. But you said it yourself that you’ve not been here long, and despite what you think the Pendragon’s can’t be trusted.”

“Arthur’s my friend!” Merlin protested.

“It wouldn’t be the first time a ‘friend’ of Camelot ended up with a knife in his back. You should get out now while you have the chance.”

“No, you’re wrong. Arthur is not like his father.”

“He’s a _Pendragon.”_ She spat the word like a curse.

Merlin saw the shine of unshed tears in her eyes. Grief buried under anger and hate. It was the same look Will had when he talked about his father. But while Cenred and Uther might deserve such hatred. Arthur did not.

“I trust Arthur with my life.”

“Then for your sake Merlin, I hope I’m wrong. Though I don’t think I am.” Forridel said quietly.


	6. Chapter 6

As expected, Arthur wasn’t happy with the idea of Forridel taking Mordred to the druids alone. True she handled herself well enough in the fight against the bandits, but Arthur knew from experience that it was much harder to fight when having to protect another person at the same time. Then there were the consequences if she was caught. Even without the boy, if she was found in possession of a royal horse, Forridel could be accused of horse theft which at best meant a fine that would leave her penniless and destitute, at worst could mean a hanging.

Arthur tried not to think about what his father would do if he found out his own son was the one harbouring the boy, but he knew that whatever the punishment was, it would never be _execution_.

The threat of punishment wasn’t the only thing fuelling his objection however. The impending battle with Cenred’s army was growing closer every day and no matter what his father thought, swords and arrows wouldn’t be enough against trained sorcerer’s. And as much as he’d like to, he couldn’t put all his faith in Merlin’s theory.

No, he knew now that the only way to defend against magic was with magic, and to find out how to do that, he had to talk to the druids.

Mordred was now well enough to feel thoroughly bored of sitting in bed all day, at least Arthur assumed he was as he still hadn’t said anything, and so Arthur had dug out an old board and taught both the boy and Merlin how to play Ninepenny Marl.

They were on their fifth game when Merlin spoke up.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous.” Said Arthur, earning a glare from Merlin.

“You know for a Kingdom where magic is banned, there’s quite a lot of it around.”

“Really?” He said, only half listening as he watched Mordred claim another of Merlin’s pieces.

“Well think about it. There was the whole thing with the griffin. There’s the dragon under the castle. There are druids living in the woods, or at least nearby. I’m sure there are singing trees in those woods by the way, next chance I get I’m going looking.”

When Mordred didn’t make a move Merlin looked up to find both he and Arthur staring at him with odd expressions on their faces.

“I’ll bring you too when I find one, and only after we get Mordred home of course.” He reassured.

“Yes that’s fine but could you maybe go back to that bit about the _dragon!”_

“... He said you knew about him.” Said Merlin quietly.

“You’ve _spoken_ to it?”

“Now and then.” Arthur continued to gape at him. “Well he’s chained up and all alone down there and seems to know things, so I keep him company sometimes. Did you really not know?”

“Well yes of course I knew that my father had captured the Great Dragon but I always assumed he had it killed along with the others.”

Arthur caught a glimpse of Merlin’s expression, treading the line between nausea and grief, and wished he’d phrased that better.

“Well... now you know, and you can help me set him free.” Said Merlin, turning his attention back to the game.

“What? No, Merlin we can’t just let the Great Dragon loose on the Kingdom.” Arthur scoffed, explaining when Merlin frowned. “It would burn everything to the ground.”

“Kilgharrah wouldn’t do that!”

“Wouldn’t it? Dragons are dangerous creatures Merlin.”

“Why, because they have magic?” Merlin snapped.

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“What _do_ you mean then?”

“Look maybe this is a conversation for another time. We have enough problems already that need our attention.” Arthur said, nodding discretely in Mordred’s direction.

“Fine.” Merlin huffed after a long pause.

“Wait where are you going?” Asked Arthur when Merlin got up to leave.

“To talk to Forridel.”

“Again?”

“Well someone has to keep her in the loop, and I don’t hear you offering to do it!” Merlin shouted over his shoulder as he marched away, the door banging shut noisily behind him.

It was Arthur’s turn to huff, slightly bewildered at the sudden turn the conversation had taken.

He did a double take when he realised Mordred was now staring at him.

“I have nothing against magic.” He felt the need to confirm. “I mean I used to but I know better now.”

Mordred continued to stare.

“Merlin just doesn’t understand, in a lot of ways he’s still rather naive you might say.”

The boy blinked slowly.

“Forridel though, you seem to know her, trust her which is... good.”

Arthur didn’t have much experience with children admittedly, but Mordred it seemed was no ordinary child. Not just because he was a druid but because no ordinary child in Arthur’s again, limited experience, could remain so utterly still without even the suggestion of a fidget. It was unnerving to put it lightly.

“Well... I have duties to attend to. Will you be alright here on your own?”

Finally a nod.

“Good, now remember if it’s one of us we’ll knock on the door and announce ourselves so you know it’s safe. Hear anything else and you need to avoid making any kind of noise. Though I suppose you have that bit covered really.” He said with a wry grin. “And if all goes well. This time tomorrow you’ll be back with your people.”

That earned him a small smile which Arthur found himself returning. Yes, the boy was a little odd. But in the end he was just a frightened child who wanted to go home. And Arthur was going to make sure he got there.

\---

Merlin marched through the castle, muttering angrily to himself all the while. So preoccupied with his frustration at the Prince he missed the last step on the stairs and his stomach jolted as his foot fell through empty air. His temple smacked hard against the wall and the next thing he knew he was on his back blinking dark spots out of his vision.

He heard a clatter behind him and then Gwen was kneeling at his side looking panicked.

“Merlin, Merlin can you hear me? The blood it’s—Help! Somebody please we need help here!” She yelled over his head.

“Gwen?”

“It’s OK Merlin, you’re going to be fine alright.” She reassured him, though her eyes were fixed on his head which Merlin noticed was feeling wet and oddly hot.

More footsteps came towards them, the familiar iron rustle of chain mail identifying them as a guard without Merlin having to even look.

“He needs the physician, please hurry!” Said Gwen and the footsteps faded away again.

“Really that’s not necessary Gwen, I’m fine.” Merlin said trying to sit up even as Gwen gently but firmly prevented him from doing so.

“You’re bleeding quite a lot Merlin, you need Gaius.”

Merlin brought his hand to his head and winced when it came away red and sticky. Pulling off his neckerchief he pressed it to the cut, letting out a small hiss at the sting.

“Head wounds bleed a lot, it will stop in a minute.” He explained, remembering the time that Will tripped into the table and got a nasty gash across his forehead. He’d been convinced his best friend was dying and without thinking threw his magic at him which healed the cut but also knocked Will flat on his back, thoroughly winded. His mother found them like that, with Will on the floor covered in blood from a seemingly invisible injury and Merlin sobbing in the corner believing he’d just murdered his best friend.

His mother had then cleaned them both up and explained about head wounds and for a long time afterwards Will had delighted in teasing Merlin about the whole thing.

“We’re still going to wait for Gaius.” Gwen ordered, still looking worried and Merlin didn’t try to argue. He squeezed her hand affectionately with the one not still pressing the cloth to his head.

Gaius arrived after not too long, tutting at the state of his ward. Once again Merlin tried to insist he was fine but was hushed, this time by the physician. Gentle fingers pulled the neckerchief away and examined the wound with their usual quick efficiency then, rather bizarrely Merlin felt, checked his eyes, ears and nose as well.

“Are you feeling any numbness anywhere Merlin?” Gaius asked.

Merlin shook his head in the negative and immediately regretted it when it throbbed viciously in response.

“Yes I’m sure you’ve got _quite_ the headache but it looks like luckily your skull is in one piece, and with rest you’ll be fine. Let’s get you back to my chambers now.” He declared, motioning the guard forward to help Merlin up.

“I still have stuff to do though Gaius, I need to –” His protest was interrupted when he stood and a wave of dizziness so strong it was only the guards arm under his shoulders that stopped him falling over, hit him like a wall.

“Whatever it is will have to wait. You need to rest somewhere I can keep an eye on you my boy.”

It was pointless to argue Merlin knew, and most of his attention was taken up with putting one foot in front of the other and ignoring the roiling of his stomach.

The guard left once they reached the door to Gaius’ chambers and with Gwen’s help they soon had Merlin lying down on the bed so the physician could begin cleaning up the wound.

“That’s two injuries in just a few days Merlin.”

“It was an accident.”

“That may be but at the rate you’re going I’ll soon be running out of bandages.” Gaius chastised.

Merlin winced, remembering he still hadn’t gotten around to replacing the roll of bandages he’d taken for Mordred.

“Is there anything else I can do Gaius?” Asked Gwen, still holding Merlin’s bloodstained neckerchief.

“No but thank you my dear.”

“Actually Gwen?” Said Merlin as she stood up.

“Yes Merlin?”

“Morgana said that she’d told you about what’s... happening, in Arthur’s chambers.”

Gwen jumped a bit and looked nervously towards Gaius who rolled his eyes but left the room, determined not to be part of it.

“You mean about the druid boy?” Gwen whispered, even when the door swung shut behind the physician.

“Yeah um, how much do you know exactly?”

“Well I uh... I know that you and Arthur and Morgana are hiding him, and are going to try and sneak him out of the castle.”

“Do you know about the plan?”

“Only that you needed to find the druids.” Gwen said apologetically.

“OK well, you should know that we’re going to get him out tonight.”

“Merlin you can’t! You heard Gaius you need to rest.”

“And if I don’t get those horses to the end of the tunnel tonight then we’ll all be thrown in the dungeons.”

“Well then I’ll bring the horses.”

“Gwen I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering.”

“It’s too risky.”

“And it would be just as risky if you were doing it!”

Merlin bit back his reply that at least he had magic on his side.

“Tell me what I need to do Merlin.”

“I don’t know Gwen, I need to talk to Arthur and Forridel again—”

“Forridel?”

“She’s the one who knows where the druids are but she doesn’t trust Arthur and Arthur thinks it’s too dangerous for her to take the boy back on her own, and it’s all just a mess.” Merlin groaned.

“OK.” Gwen said thoughtfully. “Well I will talk to Morgana and we’ll sort it all out, and you can focus on resting.”

“Gwen—”

“No, I will sort it. Rest Merlin, and I’ll come and see how you are in the morning when this is all over.” She said patting his knee affectionately then sweeping out of the room before Merlin could get another protest out.

\---

Nightfall was nearly upon them and Arthur was pacing back and forth in his chambers, his sword in its scabbard bumping lightly against his leg with every pass. They’d all agreed to get Mordred out tonight, the plan was straightforward and everyone had their part to play.

Morgana would scout ahead until they reached the burial vaults where Arthur would take the lead, bringing Mordred through the tunnels. At the end of which would be Merlin waiting with two horses and a rope for the grate. Forridel on one of the horses would then lead the way to the druids to hand over the boy.

With any luck they’d be back before the stable hands woke up and they could return the horses with no one the wiser. Otherwise Morgana would have to put her silver tongue to use to prevent anyone reporting back to the King, which incidentally was also the only reason Arthur could think of to convince her to stay behind.

The plan was as strong as he could make it with so few people but Arthur knew better than anyone how just a couple of missteps could bring it all tumbling down.

The fact that he hadn’t heard from Merlin since he’d stormed out that morning was giving him a particularly bad feeling. He was sure that no matter how angry or upset Merlin was with him, he would never risk the plan just for the sake of giving Arthur the cold shoulder. But then he had to wonder what other explanations there could be.

The most likely was probably Forridel, Arthur thought. Perhaps she was still determined to take Mordred back by herself, or maybe she was having second thoughts about helping them at all. It would be understandable after all, if the plan failed she would almost certainly be facing the executioners axe. And yet from the little he knew of her, she didn’t seem like the type to shy away from things once she’d committed herself. It was a trait he admired, and one he always looked for in his knights.

But even if the problem was Forridel, surely Merlin would have found the time to send him a message explaining things. After all Merlin was the one who started this whole endeavour when he chose to hide the druid boy from the guards, and he knew the risks of what they were attempting better than anyone. Perhaps he _had_ sent a message but it had gone awry somewhere.

Arthur’s stomach sank as he watched the sun dip below the horizon. They were out of time. All that was left to do was to follow the plan and hope it worked.

The torches were all lit by the time Morgana arrived, giving Mordred a hug and pressing a kiss to his forehead before ducking out again.

She was dressed as she usually was of an evening so as not to garner suspicion, but with one exception. She’d swapped out her usual embroidered pumps for her softest leather ankle boots that made barely a whisper against the stone as she crept through the hallways, ever so carefully guiding the others through the castle.

She’d not been idle the past few days. If she wasn’t with Mordred or keeping up appearances with the King, she was exploring every servants stair and under guarded passage in readiness for this moment.

The work paid off as they reached the stairway that led down into the vaults undetected. Only having had to divert twice to avoid anyone.

Morgana knelt to give Mordred one last hug, knowing this may very well be the last time they ever saw one another. Pulling back she gently took his hand in hers and pressed her pendant into his palm, curling the fingers around it into a fist.

“Think of me when you look at it.” She whispered and was sure she heard him whisper her name back before Arthur was hurrying him away.

It was always cold in the vaults but the fire in Arthur’s blood kept him from shivering. The tunnel they needed was near the back and they had to weave around the dusty tombs of his forebears to reach it. He did his best to breathe shallow and pressed his tongue hard against the roof of his mouth until the need to sneeze was past. It was doubtful anyone would hear if he let it out but any sound bounced off the walls in the vaults, and Arthur couldn’t be sure how far the echoes might reach.

He directed Mordred to enter the tunnel ahead of him, and kept one hand on the boy’s shoulder as they followed the twists and turns that would eventually lead them outside the city and, if everything had gone to plan, where Merlin and Forridel would be waiting with the horses.

\---

Merlin had chewed his thumb nail down to the quick by the time Gaius’ soft snores started up. He had watched his ward like a hawk all afternoon and this was the first chance Merlin had to try and sneak out.

Despite Gwen’s assurances, Merlin couldn’t bring himself to stay put while the others risked everything. If anything went wrong it would be his fault, after all he was the one that got everyone involved to begin with.

It was too late to do much, he knew that, and so Merlin told himself he was just going to check the stables. Two empty stalls meant that Gwen had got the horses and everything was going to plan, in which case he’d go right back to bed. He’d check the stables, just in case, that was all.

He continued to tell himself that right up until he was standing in front of not two but three empty stalls.

Merlin supposed that perhaps the plan might have changed while he was stuck in bed. Maybe the third horse was for Morgana, who had decided to go with them after all. Or maybe Gwen was joining them, or perhaps they needed a pack horse for some reason. Or, as Merlin dreaded, something had indeed gone wrong.

The sound of footsteps approaching broke Merlin out of his thoughts and he ducked into a stall just as the stable doors opened up. Peering through the slats in the gate Merlin saw that it was Tyr. One of the horses must be ailing he thought, Tyr was well known to spend a night tending to a horse with colic or a pregnant mare. His deep love for the animals in his care was what first endeared him to Merlin.

Unfortunately it was that same love that meant that Tyr would be the first to notice the three missing horses, and would run straight to the stable master who would tell the King.

Merlin opened the gate a crack and concentrated. He hadn’t tried the spell he was about to attempt before, but it was the only thing he could think of that would get the stable boy out of the way without hurting him.

_Swefnu!_

He whispered, then winced when Tyr immediately dropped to the floor unconscious with a thud.

Slipping out of the stall he dragged Tyr over to a pile of fresh straw in the corner. A horse whinnied right behind him, disturbed by all the activity, and Merlin nearly jumped out of his skin. He clutched his chest as he trotted over to soothe the horse before it got all riled up.

Only when it had calmed down fully did Merlin leave the stables. He stuck his head out first to check that the streets were still empty then took off running. His head throbbed in time to the pounding of his feet but he ignored it, racing past row after row of dark quiet hovels, eternally grateful for all those trips with Gaius to the lower town so that he didn’t lose his way now.

His lungs were burning after just a few minutes and his head protested ever more vehemently but at last he was approaching the end of the tunnel, and _there_ he could see all three horses and Forridel beside them. He wasn’t too late.

Merlin skidded to a stop beside her and immediately braced himself on his knees as he tried to get his breathing back under control.

“Merlin? The maid said you weren’t coming.”

“Had... to be... sure.” He panted. “Where is... Gwen?”

“I told her to go, she’d done her part. No need for her to risk her life any further.”

Merlin smiled relieved, straightening up and leaning heavily on the wall instead as his head span.

“You should leave too Merlin. You don’t look well.” Said Forridel, eyeing him critically.

“I’m fine.”

“That bandage says otherwise. Here you can bring these two back as well.” She said, passing over two sets of reins.

“One horse can’t carry all three of you.” Merlin pointed out and Forridel sighed.

He was just gearing himself up to try and convince her of Arthur’s trustworthiness again, but was interrupted by the arrival of the man himself with Mordred by his side.

“Merlin! Thank goodness you have the horses, hurry and get this grate off.” He ordered.

Forridel passed him the rope and grapple and Merlin hooked it round the bars, then they all took a step back as the grate was pulled away with a loud crunch, sending up a cloud of dust and rubble that had everyone holding their breath.

Once it had cleared Merlin reached down to help lift Mordred out, setting the boy down with a quick smile before putting a hand out to help Arthur up.

“Someone will have heard that, we need to get going.” Said Arthur, mounting his horse. “Merlin you should make yourself scarce or—what happened to your head?”

“Nothing, just a bump.” Merlin dismissed it.

Arthur frowned but let it go, he didn’t have time right now.

“Here, help Mordred up.”

Mordred raised his arms and Merlin prepared to lift him onto the front of Arthur’s horse when Forridel interrupted in a cold voice.

“No. He can ride with me.”

The tone seemed to catch Arthur off-guard and he scrambled for something to say, but it turned out he didn’t need to say anything when Mordred calmly walked towards Forridel and placed a hand on her shin. They locked eyes and Merlin knew they were having a conversation in their minds, though he couldn’t hear what they were saying. He had a pretty good idea though when Forridel’s eyes widened, glancing his way and she whispered aloud – _Emrys._

Mordred might have said more but that seemed to be enough to convince her to let Mordred ride with Arthur. Merlin was caught between feeling relief that Forridel had changed her mind, and discomfited over the fact that the look she was giving him was disturbingly similar to the look she’d given Arthur when they’d first met her in the woods. More than ever Merlin wanted to find out what this _Emrys_ meant and why Mordred kept calling him that.

As if he’d heard, Mordred turned to him one last time.

_Goodbye Emrys. I know that someday, we will meet again. And thank you._

The three of them then turned tail and galloped into the darkness, leaving Merlin to watch them go still holding the reins of the third horse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shorter chapter but I wanted to get this part finished before we move onto the big stuff.


	7. Chapter 7

It was something of a marvel that Merlin managed to return the horse and make it back to his own bed without mishap. The rush and fear that had fuelled him ran out quickly once the others had gone, and more than once he’d had to grip the very patient horse’s saddle when he stumbled or risk ending up in a weary heap on the floor.

His exhaustion warred with his aching head but the former won out and Merlin was already half asleep when he climbed under the blanket.

Naturally when Gaius woke him up the next morning it felt far too early and he couldn’t do much more than grumble unhappily when asked how he was feeling. He had a brief moment to feel guilty when Gaius looked worried as he checked him over, but soon enough his headache returned with a vengeance and Merlin found himself unable to feel much of anything beside the pain centred in his temple.

He didn’t totally regret his actions the night before. After all he was right in his instincts that things weren’t going to plan. For all he knew if he hadn’t been there, Forridel could have refused to change her mind and her and Arthur might have fought until someone got hurt. Merlin didn’t know what Mordred had said to convince her but from the look Forridel gave him, it clearly involved him somehow.

This way at least the only person suffering was Merlin, and it was all his own silly fault.

Merlin drained the cup of water beside his bed in an effort to take away the taste of Gaius’ headache remedy. It would do the trick he knew, but sometimes Merlin had to wonder if the physician didn’t _intentionally_ make his potions so foul tasting to put off anyone who wasn’t properly ailing.

A light knock at the door and Gwen poked her head in offering a sympathetic smile. The guilt reared its ugly head again as Merlin remembered her promise to check in on him and let him know how the plan had worked out.

“How is your head?” She asked quietly.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Said Merlin with a slightly shaky smile.

“Good. Well I’ll let the Prince know how you are when he gets back.”

“Arthur’s not back yet?” Said Merlin in alarm.

“Well he hasn’t spoken to the Lady Morgana yet which he promised to do on his return, but I suppose he could just be in bed. It is still rather early after all.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. It’s probably fine.”

Gwen’s expression said she knew Merlin was trying to convince himself more than anything else but thankfully didn’t comment on it.

“Did Morgana give you the morning off then?”

“No, why would she do that?”

“You were up half the night, I just assumed you’d want to sleep this morning.”

“Oh! Well I’m sure she would if I’d asked but I’m used to an early start.”

“Certainly earlier than I’m used to.” Laughed Merlin.

Gwen chuckled along then turned thoughtful. She hummed quietly to herself as she considered whatever it was over. Merlin opened his mouth to ask her but before he could get the words out she shook her head as though dismissing it in her mind.

“I can’t say I’m not relieved that it’s all over. Hopefully things will settle down to normal now.”

Merlin hummed in agreement.

“I am sorry you got sucked into all of this Gwen.”

“Oh that’s alright Merlin I was happy to help. Anyway it was Morgana I was worried about.”

“Morgana?” Said Merlin confused.

As far as he could tell Morgana’s part in the plan had held the least risk, something she had fought about with Arthur for hours while Merlin had sat with Mordred in the antechamber, avoiding each other’s eyes and pretending they couldn’t hear a thing. It had been especially tricky when Morgana had started describing an episode from their shared childhood involving a fish, a dress, a bucket with a hole in the bottom, and Arthur thoroughly embarrassing himself. Merlin desperately wanted more details but he’d managed to keep his mouth shut when he saw how flustered Arthur was at the time.

“I’ve never seen her the way she was with that boy.” Gwen said. “She told me she felt bonded to him somehow. I have to admit I was worried about what lengths she might go to if the plan hadn’t worked.”

“It’s a good thing it did then. We didn’t really have time to come up with a backup plan.” Merlin said, grimacing.

“Well, speaking of my Lady I should be getting back to her.” Gwen said after a pause, smoothing down the front of her dress as she stood.

“Oh, if you get the chance will you let me know when you see Arthur. I’d go find him myself but I don’t know when Gaius plans on letting me out of this room.”

Gwen rolled her eyes hearing the affection plainly behind Merlin’s complaints, but agreed to let him know, then left. Leaving Merlin to twiddle his thumbs while he waited.

\---

Forridel’s fears in the end were needless as they found the druids already waiting for them in a small clearing in the woods, a good distance away from the druid camp itself.

Once the Prince had helped Mordred down from his horse, the boy had made a beeline for Iseldir at the head of the little group that had come to meet them.

Arthur noticed how Forridel had positioned herself between him and the druids while they were talking. She still didn’t trust him, he thought with a hint of disappointment. He had done his best to appear non threatening and kept his hands well away from his sword. The druids were a peaceful people Arthur knew, but they were also a persecuted people, persecuted by his father. And if there was any hope that they might have a peaceable relationship between them and Camelot in the future, Arthur knew he had to tread _very_ carefully.

All in all things could have gone worse, although the druids enigmatic answers weren’t as useful as they could have been. He’d also returned a lot later than he was hoping, but it was still before dawn as he snuck back in, and the only people likely to be up so early were the night guards and the castle servants. He only had to avoid the servant quarters and the kitchens on the way to his own chambers.

Of course it was only once he’d reached the door that he remembered his promise to Morgana and Arthur groaned as he thought about how close his lovely, warm bed was. Surely Morgana would be asleep at this time. He could close his eyes for an hour or two and go see her after breakfast. Thankfully he didn’t have training that morning so once he’d spoken to her he could probably go straight back to bed afterwards. That would work right?

With a soft whimper Arthur levered himself away and headed to her room. The wringing out he’d get if Morgana found out he hadn’t gone straight to her wasn’t worth the extra couple of hours of sleep. As it was, dawn had arrived while he was hesitating and while breakfast was still a while away, Arthur could hear the castle stirring awake.

It seemed he made the right choice as when he knocked lightly on Morgana’s door a hand immediately curled around the front of his shirt and dragged him inside before he could open his mouth.

Morgana let go of him suddenly and Arthur stumbled further into the room. He was about to complain but one look at Morgana’s face froze the words in his throat, her hair was a tangle where she’d been running her hands through it, her skin was chalky, and she had purple smudges under each eye. It was obvious she hadn’t slept any more than Arthur had.

“Well? I didn’t hear the warning bells so I’m assuming it worked.”

“Yes, it worked. Mordred is back with the druids. Everything is fine.”

Morgana seemed to deflate in relief.

“Oh thank goodness.” She breathed, leaning back against the door. “It’s over.”

“Well for us anyway. Although father can’t afford to keep the search going for much longer so soon everything will be back to normal.”

Or as normal as it could be while they were preparing for war, Arthur thought to himself.

“Well you better go and see Merlin next.” Said Morgana as she went to pour herself a cup of wine.

“Why would I need to see Merlin?” Arthur frowned.

Morgana shot him a look that said she was about to be very annoyed if he didn’t say the right thing in the next few minutes.

“Because he started this whole thing and he might want to know how it went.” She said slowly.

“But he knows how it went, he brought the horses, he was there to see us off.”

It was Morgana’s turn to frown.

“No, _Gwen_ brought the horses.”

“Why would Gwen bring the horses, she wasn’t even part of the plan!”

“Not at first but she had to take over for Merlin when he got hurt.”

“Merlin’s hurt?”

“Obviously, that’s why Gwen brought the horses!” Morgana snapped.

“OK, hold on let me get this right.” Said Arthur. “You’re saying that Gwen brought the horses because something happened to Merlin.”

“Yes!”

“Except I saw Merlin and Forridel at the end of the tunnel, not Gwen.”

“Well Gwen said she left the horses with Forridel, so Merlin must have shown up afterwards but he shouldn’t have been there.” She said disapproving.

“But why not and why did no one tell me, what exactly happened yesterday Morgana?”

She sighed and put her empty cup back on the table. They were both too tired for this, but hopefully if they got everything straight now, they could each get some rest soon.

“From what Gwen told me, Merlin hit his head badly yesterday morning and though Gaius thinks he’ll be fine, he put him on bed rest just in case. Gwen agreed to take over for Merlin in the plan and I filled her in on the details, and the rest you know.”

Now that Arthur thought on it he remembered Merlin had a bandage on his head last night. He also remembered asking about it and it being dismissed as just a bump on the head.

“How badly hurt did you say?” He asked quietly.

“There was a fair amount of blood on Gwen’s dress before I sent her home to change.” Morgana grimaced. “But like I said, Gaius says he’ll be fine with rest.”

Arthur winced at the mention of blood but quickly covered his worry with his usual bluster.

“Well I better go and make sure the idiot hasn’t damaged himself too badly after last night’s escapade. He doesn’t have the brains to lose after all.”

The look Morgana gave him said she didn’t believe him for a moment but was too tired to call him out on it, and so Arthur took the opportunity to slip away. He only hoped he didn’t bump into anyone else who needed his attention on the way.

\---

Gaius kept Merlin on bed rest for another two full days. Merlin was fairly sure that the second day was unnecessary however, and more to do with Gaius learning from Arthur about Merlin’s midnight run through the city despite the physician’s orders.

Still he hadn’t lacked for company with Gwen visiting, after Merlin had apologised to her of course, Arthur dropping in the first day, and even Morgana came to check on him the second day. Although Merlin thought she looked like she could probably do with a few days in bed herself.

Gwen confirmed that Morgana’s nightmares had been particularly bad of late, and Gwen had even moved into the antechamber temporarily until they settled down again.

During her visit Morgana had asked about Arthur’s antechamber, and if Merlin planned to move into it now that Mordred was no longer hiding there.

“Why would I move?” Merlin had asked.

“Well you don’t have to of course, but it’s traditional for the personal servants to the royal family to use the antechamber of their master’s rooms.” Morgana explained.

“But what does that have to do with me?”

“You’re Arthur’s manservant Merlin, you are the personal servant of the Prince.”

“...I’m what now?”

Morgana frowned.

“Hasn’t Arthur hired you yet? We spoke about it ages ago!”

“Uh...”

“Well he should have done.”

Merlin was now thoroughly confused at the direction the conversation was turning.

“But why would I be his servant? I’m already Gaius’ assistant.”

Morgana smiled sympathetically and patted his hand.

“I know Merlin but as an official manservant you’d actually get _paid_ for all those little jobs you do while running around, picking up after Arthur.”

“Oh but I do get paid, Gaius gives me coins to go down to the market every week for food and herbs and things.” Merlin said brightly, hoping that would clear everything up.

“Well that’s all well and good Merlin but Arthur should be paying you as well for all the work you do for him.”

“Like what?”

“Well like bringing him his meals, and looking after his armour, sharpening his swords, that sort of thing.”

“I don’t mind doing that stuff.” Merlin shrugged.

“That’s not the point!” Morgana snapped frustrated, before taking a breath and continuing in a calmer tone. “The point is that you are doing the work of a servant, and in Camelot we pay our servants for their work.”

Merlin supposed that made sense. Although really he wasn’t at all sure about being Arthur’s servant, if anything it sounded like a way for Arthur to order him about without Merlin just ignoring him in response. Also if it was anything like Gwen’s job he might have to do stuff like fetching bathwater or doing laundry. He didn’t know the first thing about making up a bed!

“I really don’t think this is all necessary though Morgana. I don’t need paying, I’m happy the way things are.” He tried to dissuade her.

“Well you may think that now, but don’t you want some money of your own? Next time you go to the market you could buy yourself some new boots perhaps, treat yourself to something nice. I always feel amazing after I’ve bought some new silks for a new dress.”

“I don’t need new boots, or silk for that matter.” Merlin pointed out.

Morgana rolled her eyes but was smiling.

“Then how about you send it home to your mother.”

“Why would my mother want coins?” Merlin asked, losing his grip on the conversation again.

“To buy things?” Morgana said slowly, as if Merlin had asked a trick question.

“We always made a trade if we needed something.” Merlin said sheepishly.

He’d been in Camelot for months and had adjusted quite well, but it was times like this that served to remind him just how different things were from before. And suddenly Merlin was hit with a desperate yearning to be surrounded by trees again.

“What kind of trades?” Morgana asked gently, sensing Merlin’s change in mood.

“Mother is a weaver. She makes fabrics, linen and blankets usually, and we’d trade them for tools or mutton.” Merlin said, smiling as he remembered the last time he’d had his mother’s mutton stew. Arthur’s voice, cautious as he asked to see the magic, then his smile afterwards, warm and open and looking at him like he was a wonder to behold.

“You must miss her.”

“Yeah.” He said quietly.

“You could always go and visit her. I’m sure Gaius and Arthur wouldn’t mind giving you some time away if you need it.”

“Oh I’m sure they would but I can’t leave Arthur at a time like this.” Merlin explained, fidgeting with the bed sheet.

As such he didn’t notice Morgana frown in confusion, or her wide eyes and growing smirk once she’d put the pieces together in her head. She’d made her farewells soon after that and left Merlin to ponder his potential new position of employment, and when exactly Arthur was planning on offering it to him.

\---

Naturally it was only after they’d got Mordred out that the King finally relented and stopped the searches and extra patrols, opening the city to everyone again. Arthur could only imagine the sighs of relief from the merchants with the news.

Failing to arrest the boy had however put his father in a particularly bad mood. The anger seemed to be coming off him in waves and everyone was walking on eggshells and doing their best to blend into the background. Everyone that is except for Morgana.

Arthur supposed it was small mercies that she knew better than to speak out during the council itself, limiting herself to staring daggers at the back of his father’s head while he was talking. Once the council was finished however, and all the advisor’s and attendants had left, nothing was going to make Morgana hold her tongue anymore. Arthur just hoped she didn’t get too carried away or he didn’t know what the King would do to her in his anger.

They had been discussing Cenred and the upcoming battle. It had been a few weeks since Arthur had sent his men to scout and if everything went as it should, they were due back soon. But in the meantime the search for the druid boy had put the strategizing on hold, and now they were left to play catch up.

The restrictions on all the paths into the city meant that their grain supplies were depleted as well, something they couldn’t afford in the event of a siege. And while the King was sure it wouldn’t come to that, it paid to be prepared.

His father’s faith in Camelot’s forces was both gratifying and frustrating for Arthur. The knights of Camelot were the best in all the Kingdoms, of that there was no doubt. But Cenred had powerful magic on his side, and Arthur made the mistake of reminding the King of that. The rant that followed was nothing they hadn’t all heard before, but whether it was because of Mordred or simply the fact that she clearly hadn’t been sleeping well, Morgana was letting the words get to her.

“You insist on treating them like vermin, it’s no wonder they’re biting back.” She spat the moment the doors closed, leaving just the three of them.

“I beg your pardon.”

“How much blood must be spilt before you’re satisfied?”

“If you are referring to sorcery you know the law Morgana, and may I remind you that you are addressing your King.” Said Uther with thinly veiled patience.

“May I remind _you_ that a King is meant to protect his people.”

“That is what I’m doing.”

“You’re subjecting them to war!”

“What would you have me do?” Uther hissed. “An army marches towards us, am I to do nothing to defend my Kingdom against them?”

“I would have you acknowledge your part in putting us here.”

“What part? It is Cenred who has broken the accord! Cenred who is using sorcery against us!”

“And if you hadn’t slaughtered every one of their kin then perhaps the sorcerer’s wouldn’t be helping him. And perhaps we might actually stand a chance!” Morgana shouted.

Arthur was about to interject but hearing his own thoughts and fears  being said aloud suddenly knocked him off balance.

“Nonsense. We will find this magical weapon of Cenred’s, destroy it and then destroy him.” The King answered coolly.

“And how do you expect to destroy a magical weapon without magic?” Morgana sneered.

Arthur swallowed as he saw his father’s eyes narrow. The way Morgana was talking was on the edge of treason, and if anyone else had said it they’d already be in chains in the dungeon. If Arthur didn’t intervene he couldn’t be sure that wouldn’t be where Morgana ended up anyway.

“My men will be back with more information soon but we can’t do anything until then. We still need to do a full inventory of the armoury though father, and might I suggest we arrange with the Steward to hire on some additional apprentices to help the Blacksmiths.” Arthur diverted.

Morgana still looked murderous but the mention of the Blacksmiths prevented her from arguing any more. Arthur knew she always took note when they were brought up in council discussions because of Gwen’s father. Most of Arthur’s own weaponry had come out of Tom’s forge and he had great respect for the man’s skill.

Arthur and his father quickly fell into a discussion and Morgana thankfully stormed out without another word.

\---

_A blonde woman, familiar but not, at the King’s side. Watching an army march through valleys from horseback._

_Fire. Smoke. Grass stained red. Faces streaked with mud. People are yelling._

_A banner flies. Blue and silver. Watchers stand beneath it with hollow eyes._

_Uther’s face twisted with rage. A hand holds an axe. A dog barks in the distance._

_Gwen wrapping bandages around her burnt hands. Wincing in pain._

_A command shouted. Hollow eyes turn gold. Soldiers on their knees, choking._

_Merlin falling backwards, face white. Tears frozen on his cheek._

_Arthur screaming in fear. Abject terror._

_A bracelet on her wrist. The woman again whispers take it._

_Sister..._

Morgana’s eyes shot open and her ears echoed with the tail end of a scream. She kicked out against the bedsheet, her breath coming in gasps as it remained stubbornly tangled around her legs.

A hand wrapped around her ankle and Morgana shrieked and fought harder until finally it registered through the fear that the hand belonged to Gwen. She was patiently lifting her legs out of the twisted linens and calmly repeating her name over and over.

Morgana sprang upright and clung to her maidservant like a child with her mother, which is how she always felt after a nightmare. Though few had been as vivid and horrifying as that.

Gwen stroked her back and gently rocked back and forth until Morgana stopped trembling and the hysterical sobbing settled down into hiccupping whimpers.

“The battle—and the blood—and they were dead, all dead and screaming.”

“Shh, I’ve got you my Lady. You’re alright, I’ve got you.” Gwen soothed.

“No it was her—It was the woman—she was there—and they all—I saw it.”

“Hush now, it’s over. I’m here.”

“I saw it. I saw it...” Morgana whispered.

It was some time before either of them got back to sleep that night.

Gwen was used to her Lady’s nightmares. She’d suffered them for as long as Gwen had known her. Some bouts were worse than others and they were never consistent. Weeks would pass when Morgana barely stirred from her sleep, then suddenly one night she’d spring from her bed in terror and another cycle would start up again.

This round seemed to Gwen to be the worst she’d ever witnessed, and it was for that and only that reason, that she had talked to Merlin about it the next day.

She had actually been looking for Gaius, hoping he might have another remedy for Morgana to try, something stronger than her current potion hopefully. Instead she’d found a glum looking Merlin, stood grinding herbs at the table on his own.

Merlin explained that while Gaius had finally let him out of his room, he’d then been handed a list of chores by the physician that simply _had_ to be finished by the end of the day. And conveniently they all involved Merlin staying in the physicians chambers to do them.

“He even made me clean the leech tank, the leech tank Gwen!” He bemoaned.

Gwen laughed but somehow Merlin saw the tension behind it and asked softly if she was alright. Whether it was late nights catching up to her or simply the open concern on Merlin’s face, but she ended up spilling it all.

“I just hate seeing her like this.” She finished helplessly once she’d done explaining everything.

Merlin squeezed her hands comfortingly but his eyes were distant, as though he were deep in thought.

“She mentioned a woman?” He said after a long pause.

“Yes, a blonde woman. She’s appeared a few times now.”

“And does Morgana know who she is, the blonde woman?”

“No I don’t think so. Why, do you think that’s important?” Asked Gwen

“Maybe...”

“But they’re just dreams aren’t they? They’re not real.”

“Of course, yeah just dreams...” Said Merlin absently before snapping back to the present so abruptly Gwen jumped a little. “Well Gaius should be back soon if you want to wait and talk to him.”

“Well if you’re sure I wouldn’t be in the way.”

“Not at all, I’ll be glad for the company. Saves me talking to myself.” Merlin grinned.

Gwen smiled back, feeling lighter for having talked about it even if it turned out there wasn’t anything else to do to help Morgana.

She took out another mortar and pestle to help Merlin finish up his chores, brushing aside his assurances that she didn’t have to with her own assurance that she enjoyed having something to do. But no sooner had she set the cloves in the little stone bowl than Gaius arrived in the doorway with a summons.

“I’ve been called to the council chambers. Lancelot and the knights have returned.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some nice Morgana and Merlin interactions in this bit to make up for the lack of it with the adapted Mordred storyline. Hope you enjoyed it!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a longer one this time. Hope you enjoy!

Arthur had been hoping to meet with the knights the moment they got back, but as it turned out he was running drills with the new recruits when his men crossed the drawbridge. He cut training short when a servant arrived with the summons, much to the relief of the recruits who immediately disappeared into the armoury in case the Prince changed his mind.

Arthur didn’t bother getting changed out of his chainmail before going to the council chambers, and ended up arriving at the same time as Gaius who had Merlin and Gwen in tow. Both were wearing matching expressions of eager but anxious anticipation.

Half of the council was already there along with Arthur’s father, sat on the throne looking pensive. He stood when the doors finally opened to admit Sir Leon, Lancelot and Owain.

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief to see them each unharmed. Seeing that Gaius was in council the others couldn’t be terribly injured, and the air around the trio didn’t hold the heaviness it always did when they lost one of their number. As such Arthur was able to focus entirely on Leon’s report but still made a note to visit each of his men personally once they’d had a chance to rest.

“Sire.” Said Leon, bowing to the King.

“Sir Leon. It is good to have you returned to us. You bring news.”

“Yes Sire. Grave news I fear. The enemy is almost upon us and Cenred has managed to gather a great army. Five hundred men is our estimate.”

A hiss went up around the room. Camelot’s forces still outnumbered that but the margin was much smaller than they’d hoped.

“We still have time.” Said Arthur. They could call on their allies, Nemeth and Gawant. Less than three weeks wasn’t long enough for their armies to reach Camelot before Cenred did, but they could use the reinforcements if the battle lasted.

“I’m afraid not.” Leon interrupted. “If they continue at their current pace they will reach us by the end of the week.”

Arthur rocked back on his heels in shock. It was too soon, they were supposed to have three more weeks, what happened to his three more weeks!

“How is that possible, our last information said we had until the end of the month!” Said the King, frowning fiercely.

To his surprise Lancelot stepped forward next. Steady even in the face of Uther’s scowl.

“Sire may I ask where is the scout who gave you this information now? Did he remain within Camelot?”

“Why, what are you talking about?” The King snapped.

Lancelot’s eyes flicked briefly to Arthur before he answered.

“I saw a man Sire, in Cenred’s camp. He was not a soldier but he was receiving payment from the King. I believe he was your scout.”

“You mean to say he—”

“—was working for Cenred.” Arthur finished for him.

Uther was white faced with anger, his hands balled into fists.

“Treachery!” He spat through gritted teeth. “He’s most likely fled from the Kingdom already. If he has not I want him found and executed, make it known.”

“Yes father.” Said Arthur.

“No doubt Cenred hoped to catch us unawares, he knows he has no hope of victory in a fair fight. Sir Leon, you and your men have done well, you will be rewarded. We will reconvene in the morning, you will finish your report then. In the meantime we must send out a proclamation to the people. War is upon us.”

Arthur hurried over to his knights before they left.

“Leon, the others?”

“All well. Lancelot and Owain insisted on accompanying me to give my report, but I sent the rest to their chambers to recover.”

Arthur clapped Lancelot on the shoulder as the person closest to him and smiled at his men. He knew they must be fine but having it confirmed for him helped anyway.

“And you should follow them, you’ve seen to your duty now. My father is right you have done well, this information you’ve brought us may have just saved the Kingdom.”

He made sure to look both Leon and Owain in the eye as he spoke and they returned his smile easily before leaving to do as he said. Lancelot remained behind and Arthur let his hand drop from his shoulder at last.

“You should go too Lancelot. You can tell me what you’ve learnt after you’ve rested.”

“With all due respect Sire I think I better tell you now before Merlin chews through his fingers.” Said Lancelot, nodding towards the spot where Merlin was hovering behind everyone else, eyeing them nervously while gnawing on his thumb.

“Yes I suppose so.” Arthur sighed. “Still let’s return to my chambers before we discuss it.”

Lancelot agreed, smirking when Arthur hooked an arm through Merlin’s to drag him along with them. Not that he didn’t expect that Merlin would have followed them anyway, but the offended squawk he gave as he stumbled in Arthur’s grip was too amusing to pass up.

He made sure the door was firmly shut behind them and ignored Merlin who was impatiently bouncing on his heels in favour of pouring Lancelot a drink, refilling the cup as soon as he’d drained it.

“Well?”

It was Arthur who spoke but Merlin who Lancelot turned to, and just like that Arthur knew what he was going to say and tried to brace himself for what would follow.

“I’m sorry Merlin, but we found no signs of enchantment or curses.” He said looking as though the words pained him.

“Wh— I— But the Fomorroh, on the back of the neck, you didn’t see?”

Lancelot shook his head.

“Are you sure, maybe you didn’t get a clear look, did you—”

“I’m sorry Merlin, but we even caught one of the sorcerer’s unawares and were able to knock him unconscious and I checked him over myself. There was nothing there.”

“Well then it wasn’t the Fomorroh it’s something else!”

“How can you be sure?” Asked Arthur gently.

“Because what kind of sorcerer would _choose_ to follow Cenred, it makes no sense!”

“Because they’re not following Cenred, Merlin.” Said Lancelot.

“What do you mean?”

“There was a woman with Cenred. She was an enchantress, a sorceress. She’s leading them, the sorcerer’s are following her.”

“A blonde woman.” Muttered Merlin.

Lancelot did a double take.

“Yes, how did you know?”

“Gwen told me. Morgana’s nightmares, she said she dreamt about the battle. She said she keeps seeing a blonde woman beside Cenred.”

“Wait, did you say Morgana dreamt about the battle?” Said Arthur sharply.

“Yeah. But Lancelot you said she’s an enchantress, so the sorcerer’s, she must have enchanted them somehow.”

“I thought of that Merlin but I didn’t even see her speak to the sorcerer’s, they just followed her around in silence. I even snuck into her tent once to look around, but there was nothing there.”

“But that still doesn’t necessarily mean—”

“Merlin.” Said Arthur tiredly.

“I just need to check the books again.”

“Merlin.”

“I’ll talk to Gaius and—”

“For goodness sake, _Merlin!_ That’s enough.” Ordered Arthur. “It was a worthwhile thought, but we’ve looked and not found anything. We have to put our focus on other matters now.”

Merlin’s eyes glittered with angry tears.

“No! No I’m not giving up. I won’t.”

“Merlin.” Said Arthur in a softer tone. “You need to let this go.”

Merlin didn’t reply. Just stared, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he ground his teeth in frustration and breathed harshly through his nose. Arthur waited, looking him in the eye but making sure to keep his expression open but firm, until finally Merlin stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

“Perhaps I should talk to him.” Said Lancelot after a lengthy pause.

“No.” Said Arthur. “Leave him to cool off. He’ll be back when he’s ready. Go and get some rest yourself now Lancelot. You’ve earned it.”

\---

Merlin hadn’t been thinking about where he was going when he stormed out of Arthur’s chambers, just knowing he needed to get away. Still he wasn’t too surprised when he ended up at the top of the stairs leading down to the dragon’s cavern.

He was still upset and not a little frustrated but by the time he reached the bottom, Merlin had calmed down enough that his voice didn’t shake when he called out to Kilgharrah.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Naturally.” Said the dragon, sweeping down from wherever he’d been perched.

“It’s about the battle. It’s much closer than we expected.” Said Merlin.

“And what is it you want with me young warlock?”

“Cenred isn’t just bringing an army, he has magic on his side.”

“As do you.” Kilgharrah pointed out.

“But that’s not enough! He has a group of sorcerer’s, I’m just one man!”

“Ah but you see Merlin. You are not just any man are you? You are Emrys.”

Merlin had been building up to asking how to save the sorcerer’s but that threw him off track.

“Emrys? That’s what Mordred kept calling me.”

“Indeed.”

“But why? What’s an Emrys?”

“Emrys is a name. Your name.”

“... Pretty sure it’s Merlin actually. Always has been.”

“You have many names.”

“If you say so.” Merlin muttered.

It wouldn’t seem possible for a dragon to be able to convey so much exasperation through facial expression alone but somehow Kilgharrah managed it.

“I told you when we first met young warlock, that within you is immense power.”

“But not the skill I know, that’s why I can’t free you yet, but I am learning!”

“I have no doubt. But you must do so wisely. For when the time comes you will be the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth.” Kilgharrah pronounced.

Merlin gaped up at him. Then shook his head in disbelief.

“Alright now you’re just teasing me.”

“I do not _tease._ ” He sneered.

“But you can’t think that I... I mean that’s just not—isn’t Arthur supposed to be the one with the big destiny!” Spluttered Merlin.

“It is a destiny you share. You and Arthur are but two sides of the same coin. Only together will you unite Albion.”

Merlin let out an involuntary noise somewhere between a giggle and a whimper and immediately clapped his hand over his mouth before he let out any more.

“I should probably let Arthur know then shouldn’t I?” He said weakly, the words muffled through his fingers.

Kilgharrah didn’t bother replying and simply disappeared back up into the darkness with a flap of his wings.

Merlin trudged back up the stairs feeling numb. He was so deep in thought in fact that it was pure luck that the guards didn’t spot him as he emerged from the tunnel.

Despite what he’d said to Kilgharrah, Merlin really didn’t feel like talking to Arthur again, at least not yet. There had been far too many unpleasant revelations thrown at him, and for all that Merlin had bemoaned being stuck in bed the past few days, he suddenly wanted nothing more than to climb under his blanket and shut the world out for a while. Since that wasn’t an option he’d carry on instead with Gaius’ list of chores, he’d said they needed finishing by the end of the day after all, and hopefully the repetitive tasks might allow him the chance to untangle his thoughts on everything.

\---

With Cenred so very close, Arthur had barely enough time to stop and eat if he was going to get everything done. Still the first chance he got, Arthur tracked Morgana down to ask her some questions.

Arthur had never given much thought to Morgana’s nightmares before. They’d just always been there, lurking in the background, only really visible to the rest of them through Morgana’s lethargy as a result of too many restless nights. But the conversation with Merlin and Lancelot had sparked a thought within him. A potentially important thought.

“Why do you want to know about my dreams Arthur?” Morgana snapped when Arthur had caught up to her outside the stables.

“Why doesn’t matter, just tell me what you saw.”

“No! I am too tired to deal with whatever _this_ is. And I’m sure you have better things to be getting on with than messing with me.” She scowled.

“I’m not trying to mess with you Morgana just come on, it might be important.”

“In what way could my dreams possibly be important?”

“Well maybe if you told me about them you’ll understand them more, and it might even make you feel better.” Arthur wheedled.

Such a tactic would never have worked if Morgana wasn’t already so sleep deprived, but as it was she reluctantly explained the dark and confusing scenes that haunted her each night and left her exhausted and scared the rest of the time.

“And this woman, this blonde woman, do you know who she is?” Arthur questioned.

“She felt oddly familiar, but no I don’t know who she is.”

“Are you sure?” He pressed.

“I’m sure Arthur, for goodness sake what does it matter anyway, they’re just _dreams!”_ Morgana snapped, marching back in the direction of the castle to end the conversation.

Still what she’d said was enough for Arthur and he headed back inside as well, to find Gaius.

He’d intended to give Merlin the rest of the day to calm down after the outburst in his chambers that morning, but the truth was he didn’t have the time to be patient, and given that what he had to say concerned Merlin, he was glad to find both he and Gaius bottling potions in their chambers when he arrived.

“Sire.” The physician greeted.

“Gaius, good, I need to ask you something.” Arthur said, shutting the door behind him.

“Of course, how can I help?”

Arthur rested both hands on the table and locked eyes with Gaius, ignoring Merlin shuffling about in the corner of his vision

“What can you tell me about people who see the future?”

“Have you been talking to Kilgharrah?” Interrupted Merlin suddenly.

“What?”

“Kilgharrah, the dragon.”

“No, why? Can dragons see the future?”

“That’s what Kilgharrah told me.” Merlin shrugged, turning back to labelling phials.

“Yes well, dragons are one kind of magical being that has knowledge of the future, but Arthur I believe you were referring to seers, _people_ who see the future.” Said Gaius.

“Yes, what do you know about them? How do they see the future?”

“Well Sire, for one thing seers are very rare. Few records exist of such people so I’m afraid I can’t tell you much. What I do know is that many seers use an object to see, a magical artefact of some kind like a crystal or a mirror.”

“And what about... dreams?”

“Well now prophetic dreamers have a long history. In the time of the Old Religion, any child who was thought to have the gift was given into the care of the High Priestesses. Many of the most powerful sorcerer’s ever known were believed to be prophetic dreamers.” Gaius explained.

Merlin edged closer, drawn in to the conversation despite himself.

“Arthur, why do you ask?” He said cautiously.

Arthur sighed.

“It’s Morgana.” He said. “What you said this morning Merlin got me thinking, Morgana’s nightmares _always_ seem to happen around the time of an attack, or a death, or an accident. Now she’s dreaming about the battle and mentioning a woman that matches the description of the woman my knights saw working with Cenred. Gaius, you’ve treated Morgana for years, surely you’ve noticed a pattern.”

Gaius looked grim but didn’t answer.

“Is it not possible, do you think, that Morgana might actually be seeing visions of the future?” Arthur continued.

“Have you suggested this to her?” Gaius asked seriously.

“No I came here first.”

“Good.”

“What do you mean good, don’t you think she should know?” Asked Merlin.

“Of course she should!” Said Arthur before Gaius could answer. “And Merlin, of course it’s your decision, but I was wondering if you would consider talking to Morgana.”

“What, you want me to tell her she’s a seer?” Merlin frowned.

“No, I mean would you consider telling her about you.”

“Me? Wait are you suggesting I tell the Lady Morgana about _my magic!_ ” Merlin hissed in shock.

“Merlin you mustn’t!” Warned Gaius.

“OK, now obviously it’s up to you Merlin.” Arthur placated. “But I was just thinking that maybe it would help... if Morgana knew she wasn’t alone in this. And for you too, wouldn’t you want someone like you to talk to.”

Merlin still looked panicked, avoiding looking directly at either of them and babbling nervously.

“I really don’t know Arthur. I mean no one was supposed to know about me and so many do already. You found out and then I told Gaius, or my mother told Gaius, and then Lancelot found out, and no one was ever meant to know. No one was supposed to _know_!”

“Alright, alright Merlin.” Soothed Arthur as if the other boy was a particularly skittish horse. “Again, it’s all up to you. I swore to you I wouldn’t tell a soul about your magic and I meant it. All I ask is that you think about it. After all Morgana has always been sympathetic when it comes to magic users, I truly believe we can trust her.”

Merlin swallowed loudly. His bottom lip was turning pink and swollen where he’d been chewing on it in worry and Arthur had to force himself to look at Merlin’s forehead instead, now really wasn’t the time for that kind of thinking.

“I’ll think about it.” Merlin whispered eventually.

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder and got a shaky smile in return. He nodded in thanks to Gaius who was equally uneasy but better at hiding it, and headed back to his own chambers for a bite to eat before he visited the knights.

\---

The moment the door swung shut behind the Prince, Gaius turned to Merlin looking grave.

“Merlin, Morgana must not learn of your magic.”

“But she’s like me. Like Arthur said.” Merlin protested weakly.

“If anything that is even more reason not to tell her.”

“Gaius what do you mean?”

“Merlin you must understand. I’ve looked after Morgana since the moment she came to Camelot and I know she has a good heart, but she’s also the King’s ward. You are a servant, the situation is different, the _stakes_ are different.”

“I know but doesn’t that make it worse? I mean she’s like Arthur, she’s grown up being told that magic is bad and frightening and then to find out she has it... I know what it’s like to feel scared and alone. She shouldn’t have to feel like that.”

“No she shouldn’t.” Agreed Gaius sadly. “And I will do my best to help her, but you have to remember that her position offers her a protection that you don’t have. Short of performing magic directly in front of the King, Uther will never suspect Morgana. But if there were ever so much as a suggestion about your powers...”

Merlin didn’t need Gaius to fill in the end of that sentence as the image of a stacked pyre floated to the forefront of his mind.

“Do you really think she’d tell someone?” He asked, his voice strained.

“I don’t want to believe that she would. But you were right when you said she was scared, and fear can make people do many things they would not otherwise do.”

Merlin slumped onto the bench feeling exhausted. What Gaius said made too much sense not to agree with. And while he knew Morgana was often sympathetic to magic users, her refusal to attend any of their executions had been the cause of many shouted arguments between her and the King that the whole castle had overheard, there was no way to know how far that sympathy extended. But Arthur had such faith in her...

“What do I say to Arthur?”

“The truth. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“I hope so.” Said Merlin.

\---

Arthur busied himself for the rest of the day going over Leon’s report with him. He would have to go over everything again at the council in the morning, but when Arthur found his head knight unable to sleep and checking over the crossbows in the armoury, he knew from experience that talking it through was the best method of relief. With the added benefit of giving him a head start on strategizing for the battle.

He waited until after dinner to speak to Morgana again. She had started taking all of her meals in her room so he knew where to find her at least. And her chambers were private enough for the conversation he wanted to have.

Arthur knocked on the door and waited. Even when Morgana was in a good mood he would never think of just bursting into her room, even though she annoyingly never bothered to give him the same courtesy with his own chambers, it was simply a matter of pride.

Guinevere opened the door and bowed her head when she saw it was him.

“It’s Prince Arthur, my Lady.” She announced over her shoulder.

Arthur didn’t hear Morgana’s answer but in response Gwen stepped aside to let him in and Arthur gave her a smile in thanks. Morgana was already in her night clothes and sat on her bed, although the way she was curled up against the headboard said she wasn’t planning on sleep just yet.

“What is it now Arthur, come to ask me more about my dreams?” She sighed, sounding resigned.

“Not exactly.” Arthur hedged, taking a seat next to her.

“Then what do you want?”

“I need to tell you something. In private.” He said, glancing to the other side of the room where Gwen was putting out candles.

Morgana sighed again.

“That will be all Gwen. Arthur can do the rest when he leaves, why don’t you go get yourself some sleep.” She called out.

Gwen glanced between the two of them and nodded.

“Thank you my Lady. I’ll be right next door if you need me.” She said softly.

Morgana smiled affectionately and with a curtsey Gwen bid them both good night and slipped out to the antechamber.

“Well go on then.”

“Right.” Arthur said. “Well I was thinking about your dreams.

“I thought you said this wasn’t about my dreams.”

“I said not exactly. Look, do you have any idea about _why_ you dream the things you do?”

Morgana tilted her head back and gazed at the upper panel of her bed. She didn’t say anything but after a few seconds of quiet she shook her head.

“Perhaps I’m cursed.” She muttered.

“I don’t think it’s a curse Morgana. Have you ever heard of a seer?”

She frowned in thought and brought a hand up to massage her temple.

“Um... yes I think. They are the ones who see the future, yes?”

“That’s right. And do you know how they see the future?”

“How could I possibly?” She said, frustration leaking in to her tone.

“Well some use mirrors, and some use crystals, and some have... dreams.”

It took a moment for Morgana to pick up on what he was implying but the hitch in her breathing told him when she got it. She turned to face him.

“You really think I...” She whispered.

“I could be wrong but—”

“Please just say it.” She begged latching on to his arm, her eyes fixed unblinkingly on his and looking quite manic as a result. “I just need to hear someone else say it, _please!”_

Arthur forced himself to not tense up in the face of Morgana’s desperation and kept his voice steady and calm as best he could.

“I think you have magic.” He said plainly.

Morgana seemed to sink into herself then, her grip on his arm easing, she didn’t remove it though and Arthur could feel the small tremors running through her intermittently. She sucked in her lips and screwed her eyes shut as she tried to get herself under control, but when she spoke her voice was barely above a whisper.

“What do I do?” She said, curling her free hand into a fist next to her.

The question didn’t seem directed at Arthur so much as at the world at large and so he kept quiet.

“Uther!” She exclaimed suddenly, her eyes snapping open and Arthur half expected to turn around and see his father hovering in the doorway until Morgana continued, her voice getting stronger as her panic increased. “If he finds out, he’ll hunt me down. He’ll hunt me down and kill me!”

“No. Morgana listen to me.” Arthur said, taking her wrist in his hands to draw her attention back. “Truthfully I don’t know what my father would do if he knew, but we’re never going to find out because _he_ is never going to find out, alright?”

It took a minute to get her breathing back under control but when she did she gave him a shaky nod. They sat in silence for a while, and Arthur was just about ready to slip into a doze when Morgana spoke again.

“Will it help at least?”

“Sorry?”

“My dreams. If they really are visions of the future. If all of what I saw will come to pass someday. Isn’t there any way to change it, stop it somehow? Will it help at all, or is it fate?”

“It helps, I’m sure of it.” Arthur affirmed. “There has to be a reason for you seeing what you do, if there wasn’t anything we could do about it then there’d be no point in showing you anything. No, there’s a purpose to it I’m positive.”

“And how can you be sure? You don’t know any more about magic than I do.”

“Well you don’t have to take my word for it.”

“Oh and who else am I supposed to ask then, or did you somehow forget what Kingdom we’re in. It’s not like we have a local magic expert just wandering around the castle!” Morgana sniped, rolling her eyes.

Arthur couldn’t squash his smirk in response to the familiar tone of voice. If Morgana was back to making sarcastic comments at him, it was a sure sign she was feeling better.

After a few more minutes of their usual back and forth, interrupted by ever more frequent yawns, Arthur excused himself and Morgana sobered before standing with him.

There was still a flicker of fear in her as she faced seeing those awful images again once she lay her head down, but Arthur was gratified to see that her gaze when she looked at him was steadier than it had been in days. Tugging him into a hug she whispered sincerely.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll keep you safe Morgana. I promise.” He swore.

\---

On the walk back to his chambers Arthur’s thoughts turned to Merlin again, as they always seemed to lately. He hoped Merlin would agree to tell Morgana about his secret. He understood his fears of course, the risk that somehow his father might find out about Merlin and what would happen if he did, had featured more than once in his own nightmares. But Arthur was sure Morgana would keep the secret, after all it was her secret too now. In many ways they were the same and Arthur was going to protect them both to his dying breath.

He thought again about Morgana’s comment about a magical expert in Camelot and laughed to himself, for all that she’d said it in mockery it wasn’t actually that far from the truth. Mind you Merlin was not exactly what you would call an _expert_ in well, anything really. Gaius on the other hand seemed quite knowledgeable about magic, more so than Arthur suspected even his father realised, but even then he was not sure if the physician could be described as an expert either.

There was always the druids he supposed. Although as the whole Mordred incident had demonstrated, it was a bad idea for them to enter Camelot but neither would it be easy for Morgana to go to them. As the King’s ward she was never allowed to venture outside of the city without a company of guards for protection, and even the lower town was off-limits unless she took an escort. Although Morgana tended to get around this by bringing Gwen with her instead of a guard.

Arthur thought back to his own conversation with the druids and wondered how much help they might actually be. Mordred had been thrilled to see them and they in turn had been gracious and thankful to have the boy back.

Iseldir had kept a gentle hand on Mordred’s shoulder as he turned to address the Prince.

“We are forever indebted to you, Arthur Pendragon, for returning the boy to us.” His voice was soft but it carried easily in the quiet of the clearing.

“First I must tell you that returning the boy was not the sole reason I sought you out.”

Out of the corner of his eye Arthur saw Forridel tense but Iseldir responded in that same calm tone.

“Yes, indeed. You fear what lies ahead of you.”

“I need your help.”

Iseldir smiled kindly and Arthur had the sudden inkling that the druid in front of him was in fact much older than he appeared.

“You already have all that you need. With Emrys by your side you can accomplish anything.”

Arthur frowned in confusion.

“Emrys is that, some kind of weapon?” He guessed.

“There are some who would use the power of Emrys that way, but in truth he is much more than that.”

“OK... So Emrys is a man then. And he can help me?”

“He is more than a man too, just as you are, Once and Future King. You are two halves of a whole.” Iseldir smiled. “Together you will lead Albion into a new age, one of peace.”

Mordred, perhaps sensing that Arthur still didn’t understand, tugged lightly on the druids’ sleeve to gain his attention. The man and boy stared intensely at one another and seemed to be talking, although their lips didn’t move and Arthur didn’t hear anything besides the usual sounds of the forest at night.

“Mordred tells me you know Emrys by another name. Merlin.”

Arthur had immediately dismissed that idea, thinking that Mordred must have just been mistaken although the boy just smirked at him when he said so, and Iseldir’s smile, Arthur thought, turned quite indulgent. When he noticed the other druids shooting each other amused looks he finally gave up and changed the subject.

He’d thought about it since and wondered if there might have been something to it after all. More than once he’d felt like kicking himself for not asking more questions at the time.

After all he knew Merlin was reasonably powerful. He’d seen it himself a few times, although it was easy to forget. And if all went well, he supposed he did intend to bring Camelot into a new age and he hoped Merlin would help him do it.

But the way the druids described this Emrys made him sound like some kind of ancient being with immense power. Someone who could do _anything_ , even win the war for them. That couldn’t be Merlin. For goodness sake the boy talked to bloody trees, he wasn’t a warrior. In fact Arthur was fairly sure the only time Merlin had held a weapon was when he was tending to Arthur’s swords.

And as for the bit about him and Merlin being two halves of a whole, well... he didn’t know what to make of it. But he did his best to ignore how the idea sparked a warm feeling within him. At least for now.

\---

Merlin had come to a decision, and it was one Arthur was going to hate. He had to do it now though, before it was too late. Cenred and his army had been haunting their steps ever since they left the cottage in the woods, but after the knights shared the unhappy news of his closeness, Merlin had felt like he was stuck staring at an hourglass and the sand had trickled down to its last few grains.

The council had reconvened that morning to hear the rest of Sir Leon’s report but Merlin hadn’t attended. The war council, Arthur included, had remained in session for the rest of the day and Merlin was having to skip dinner to catch the Prince in his chambers. Although the nerves twisting in his stomach had quite effectively robbed him of his appetite so it didn’t matter much either way.

Arthur’s chamber doors were open when he reached them but Merlin made sure to close and lock them behind him when he entered, the soft click of the latch garnering Arthur’s attention.

Arthur had a strange expression on his face when he first looked up at him, but it quickly relaxed into a smile and Merlin chalked it up to just some lingering awkwardness after his outburst the day before. Steeling himself, Merlin dropped into the chair opposite and rested his forearms flat on the table, making sure to look Arthur directly in the eye.

“We need to talk.” He announced.

“Alright.” Answered Arthur.

“It’s about the druids.”

“Oh!” Arthur sounded surprised. “Right, er, what about the druids?”

“I need to talk to them. I think they might be able to help.”

“Oh no, I’ve already thought about that but there’s simply no way we can get Morgana to them without my father noticing, especially at the moment.”

“What? No, I mean that sounds fine but I wasn’t talking about Morgana.” At Arthur’s blank look he continued. “I meant that they might know how to help the sorcerer’s.”

Arthur sighed and looked at him in that way that was probably meant to be sympathetic but always came off more condescending in Merlin’s opinion.

“Merlin I thought we’d agreed that there was nothing to be done about those sorcerer’s. The knights didn’t find anything to suggest—”

“ _We_ didn’t agree anything, you just told me to let it go.” Merlin said, more bitter than he meant it to sound.

“And you should let it go.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because that might have been me!” He snapped. “If we’d stayed in the village, or they found us in the woods. I would have been just the same, made to do awful things, being controlled by a madman. So if there is even the slightest chance that they could be saved then I have to find it. I don’t expect you to understand—”

“Oh I understand better than you might think.” Said Arthur. “I just need you to consider other outcomes. For example what if you find out that the sorcerer’s are fighting by choice. That they have chosen to join Cenred, what happens then?”

“Well then... I’ll just have to find a way to talk to them. I can show them that there’s another way. I can tell them about you and me! How you accept magic, how things will change for the better. They won’t have to hide from the monsters anymore, they don’t have to pick a side or settle for the lesser evil—"

“Hold on. My father is not an evil monster Merlin.” Arthur protested.

“I didn’t say he was. I just mean that Uther is a... well he’s... I don’t think he’s evil.” Merlin huffed.

“Or a monster.”

Merlin hesitated.

“My father is not a monster!” Arthur snapped.

“Well he’s not exactly King Mercy either is he.” Merlin muttered.

“You _cannot_ talk about the King that way.”

“He’s not my King.”

“According to the law, he is your King in fact.”

“According to the law, the King’s law, my being alive is illegal.”

“I’m not saying he hasn’t made mistakes.”

“Oh I’d say it’s a bit more than a mistake.”

“He thought he was protecting the Kingdom.”

“By killing.”

“I’ve killed to defend Camelot and I will do so again if necessary, does that make me a monster Merlin?”

“Of course not.”

“It is the King’s duty to defend his people.”

“Uther slaughtered his own people.”

“He was wrong. But the fact remains that he is still my father Merlin.”

“He’s still my _nightmare_ Arthur!”

That effectively shut him up and the shouted words hung heavy in the sudden silence.

He wasn’t sure when but at some point they had both gotten to their feet and there was less than an arm’s length of space between them. Arthur looked like he’d just been struck, his face twisted in pain and Merlin gave a moment to feel sorry for that, though he couldn’t bring himself to regret what he said. It was true after all.

Uther and Cenred had been the names behind every shadow in Merlin’s childhood. Haunting him like a dark cloud, for years they were his own personal monsters. The only difference now was that one of the monsters had a face.

He wiped away the few tears that had spilled over and rubbed his nose on the back of his hand with a sniff.

“Merlin.” Arthur croaked.

Merlin screwed his eyes shut, suddenly, irrationally terrified that Arthur was going to try and apologise.

“What if you don’t find anything. If the druids tell you the sorcerer’s can’t be saved?”

He swallowed and opened his eyes.

“Then I guess I’ll have to find a way to stop them.”

He moved towards the door but Arthur caught him by the wrist.

“Wait! Merlin please, just think about this. Cenred is so close, you can’t go out there alone. What if something happens?”

“It’s because he’s so close that I have to go, I’ll be alright.”

“How can you know that, look...” Arthur stepped closer and put a hand on each of Merlin’s shoulders. “Don’t do this. Please Merlin I need you here. I need you to stay in Camelot, where it’s safe. I just—I need to know you’re safe.”

Merlin smiled sadly, laying his hand over Arthur’s.

“And we need to save Camelot.”

Arthur sighed, his right hand fiddling with the frayed edge of Merlin’s neckerchief. It was the same one he’d been wearing when they left the cottage all those months ago.

“Sometimes I wonder if you wouldn’t have been better off if you had never met me. I drag you away from your home, I promise your mother I’ll protect you and instead I lead you straight into danger.”

“Don’t say that!” Merlin chastised. “Arthur meeting you is the best thing that has _ever_ happened to me. And as for danger, I’ve been running from one kind or another for my entire life. Now I’m finally ready to turn around and face it.”

Arthur smiled, eyes shining. This time when Merlin stepped away he let him go without protest. Just before he opened the door though Merlin turned and flashed a toothy grin at him.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He promised.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was hoping to get this up earlier but it was proving stubborn. Tried something a little different this time, so I hope it works for you.

“You will be careful won’t you.”

“Yes Gaius.” Promised Merlin.

Despite Merlin’s protests, Gaius had insisted on walking him all the way to the city gates to see him off. Merlin was grateful that when he’d told Gaius what he was planning the physician hadn’t tried to convince him to stay. After Arthur’s reaction Merlin wasn’t sure he had it in him to refuse if his guardian had pleaded with him too. Not to say that Gaius was happy to let him go, as was obvious in the way he was fussing almost worse than his mother had when he went down to the river to collect clay on his own for the first time.

“You’ve got your water skin?”

“Yes I have my water skin.”

“And your flint?”

“Gaius I don’t need flint to start a fire.”

“Nevertheless, it pays to be prepared.”

“Yes I have my flint.”

“Good. Oh and there’s something else.” Said Gaius, digging in his robes and producing a little square of fabric with something tucked inside. “I want you to have this. My mother gave it to me when I was a boy.”

Merlin flipped open the fold to reveal a rabbit’s foot.

“Said to protect you from evil spirits. Silly really, just a superstition—”

“No Gaius, I love it. Thank you.” Merlin smiled, pulling his guardian into a hug.

He put the little parcel safely away in his pack and turned to take one last look at Camelot.

“I’ll see you in a few days.” He promised.

With a final pat on the arm from Gaius, Merlin headed off, finally back into the woods.

He didn’t know where he was going exactly. Arthur had told him how to get to the clearing where he’d met the druids before and that seemed as good a place as any to start with. He wasn’t sure where to go from there but from the moment Merlin had thought of it, finding the druids had felt like something he had to do. And he always had his magic to guide him.

It was late in the day by the time he found the clearing. The journey taking much longer on foot. Before Merlin had left Arthur had offered to get him a horse to ride, but every horse was needed for the war. Not to mention that the royal stables were now guarded day and night since Arthur forgot to lock the doors after the Mordred escapade, and one of the horses had run off. When Tyr had been found unconscious in the corner where Merlin had left him, the King had been all set to fire him. It was only Arthur’s quick talking and Gaius’ reluctant corroboration that convinced Uther that the stable hand must have been attacked by the thieves who took the horse, and thus saved Tyr and his mother from being kicked out onto the streets.

Arthur had gloated about it until Morgana pointed out that it was Arthur’s fault for not locking the door to begin with.

It was funny how often Merlin’s thoughts drifted back to Arthur while he walked. For so long he had been desperate to be surrounded by trees again, and while it was comfortable and familiar with the usual chorus of birds above and bracken below, it didn’t feel quite the same as when he used to wander through the woods around the cottage back at home.

The days after their little harvest was in had been his favourite times to go wandering. There were always jobs to be done but this was the quietest time of the year and Merlin could roam about for as long as he wanted to. Usually he’d pick a direction and just start walking, only stopping to climb a tree or take a dip in the river. Collecting withies for basket weaving whenever he passed a willow.

Sometimes he’d spend all day out there, chasing the wind and singing along with the melody of the forest. He’d come home to his mother trailing mud and twigs with river weeds in his hair. She’d always laugh and call Merlin her little forest nymph, even as she chased after him with a scrubbing brush for his filthy feet.

Standing in the clearing, he did his best to clear his mind of such thoughts and concentrate on the present.

Not being able to think of anything else Merlin tried calling out in his mind the way he had when talking to Mordred. When nothing happened he tried again, this time louder. Still nothing happened and Merlin eyed the slowly lengthening shadows with the first prickles of doubt steeling into his mind.

When the shadows reached the toe of his boots Merlin conceded that he needed to set up camp soon, he wasn’t finding the druids tonight it seemed. He walked out of the clearing, trying to pick out the sturdiest looking tree to take shelter under when another idea hit him. If anything it was more of a long shot than his first half baked attempt, but he figured there was no harm in trying.

Laying his pack down beside him, Merlin placed his hands on the ridged bark of an old wych elm tree. Its gnarled trunk strangely reminded him of the yew tree that lived beside the cottage. Closing his eyes, Merlin pulled his magic to the surface and felt it sink into the tree. He smiled when his suspicions were confirmed and he heard the familiar hum and the first few notes of a new melody. The rhythm was slower than he was used to, and Merlin thought perhaps these woods might be older than his own, but equally magical it would seem.

He sang along for a while, picking out the strange steady words of the elms song. It wasn’t as guttural as stone but neither did it have the sweeping flow of the wind. Only when he was completely relaxed did he try asking, whispering the words in his mind.

_Where are the druids?_

He felt something tug in his chest and suddenly he was adrift amongst a sea of voices. Incomprehensible in their multitude, he nearly staggered backwards in shock but caught himself before his hands could leave the tree and break the link.

Merlin concentrated, and though it felt like he was wading through mud, he finally latched on to a familiar voice and hung on to it. The strain on his magic was almost too much however and he barely managed to spit out a few words before he was being yanked back into his own mind.

The force of everything snapping back into place was enough to throw Merlin backwards like a rag doll. He hit the ground hard and was knocked unconscious, a crumpled heap in the middle of the clearing.

\---

Merlin’s first thought when he opened his eyes is that the ceiling in his room seemed to be a lot closer all of a sudden. It took a moment before he realised that that was because he wasn’t in his room, and he was actually looking at the canvas roof of a shelter.

Before he could start panicking about where he was, a familiar face appeared in his vision.

“Mordred?” Merlin croaked.

The boy smiled and offered him a cup of water which Merlin drained gratefully.

“So it worked.”

“Indeed it did.” Said a new voice and Merlin turned to see an older man ducking in through the door. “Welcome Emrys. We are glad to have you in our home.”

“Oh! Um yes, thank you...”

“Iseldir.”

“Right, thank you Iseldir.” Merlin said, awkwardly fidgeting with the empty cup.

Iseldir smiled kindly, sensing his nervousness.

“Come Emrys. Let’s get you something to eat and then we may talk.”

Mordred led the way out of the tent and sat Merlin down beside the fire at the centre of camp then dropped to sit by his feet. Looking around Merlin noticed that most of the other druids were milling back and forth between the tents and eyeing him with interest, although most were trying not to be too obvious about it. Iseldir ladled stew out of the pot bubbling away on the fire and Merlin felt a sharp pang at the familiarity of the scene, suddenly conscious of just how much he missed his mother.

The druids sat quietly while he ate though Merlin was too preoccupied to notice. It was only once he’d started eating that he realised how hungry he was and he was scraping the bottom of the bowl before long.

“Thank you, that was delicious.” He said handing back the bowl. “I don’t know why I was so hungry, I wasn’t out for very long was I?”

“It has only been a few hours since Mordred here heard your call and we went to retrieve you.” Iseldir reassured. “I am not sure what it is you did but the magic you used to reach us was very powerful, it is natural that you would need some time to recover.”

Merlin nodded but it worried him a little. He’d never felt drained after using his magic before, if anything he usually felt a rush from it. Then again he’d not been using it too much lately, just little things here and there that no one would notice to keep himself healthy, and sometimes to make his chores easier though he was careful to make sure Gaius wasn’t around first. But the last time Merlin had done any magic that needed more than minimal effort and concentration was probably when he helped Arthur defeat the griffin. He wondered if perhaps his desperate desire to be surrounded by trees again was more than just about missing home.

“Merlin?” A familiar voice called, interrupting his line of thought.

“Forridel!” He gasped standing up to meet her.

She had a net full of fish hanging off the end of a spear flung over her shoulder and was walking barefoot with her boots held in her other hand, but what really caught Merlin’s attention was the grin on her face. In fact she looked more at ease than Merlin had ever seen her. To his pleasant surprise she marched right up to him and pulled him into a hug, just barely avoiding whacking him in the face with the fish in the process.

“When did you get here?”

“Oh I’ve not been here long, just a few hours. It’s great to see you, Arthur didn’t tell me you decided to stay with Mordred.”

Forridel snorted, her opinion of Arthur apparently not much changed even after all he’d done to help them. She dumped her things and sat down, pulling Mordred into her arms who went happily along with her.

“Well never mind that, what are you doing here?”

“I actually came to talk to the druids.” He said and turned back to address Iseldir. “I need your help.”

“War is coming.” Iseldir nodded. “We will aid you if we can Emrys, but we are a peaceful people. We will not fight.”

“I’m not asking you to fight, I’m trying to find a way to save everyone not hurt them.” Merlin assured. “You see Arthur says that Cenred has been after Camelot for years, but he’s never tried anything before now because he knows he can’t defeat the knights. But now Cenred has this woman with him, she’s some kind of enchantress and I don’t know how yet but _somehow_ she’s enslaved a group of sorcerer’s and is controlling them and making them fight.”

“But you don’t know how she does this?” Asked Forridel.

“No. I was hoping you might have some ideas, or at least know a way to free them.” Merlin shrugged.

“What signs of magic did you see to know of their enslavement?” Asked Iseldir.

Merlin winced. He knew it would come up eventually and he braced himself in case the druid responded the same way as Arthur.

“Nothing.” He admitted.

“Then how do you know?” Asked Forridel.

“I just know.” He said, looking down at his feet.

There was a pause when Merlin didn’t dare look up, but when he did it was to see Iseldir frowning and Merlin’s heart sunk.

“I do not know of any spell or enchantment so powerful that leaves no trace. But I will talk to the others, they may know that which I do not. We will speak again soon Emrys. Forridel, Mordred, I trust you will take good care of our guest.”

Iseldir smiled good-naturedly and left the three of them sitting beside the fire to catch up.

\---

It was nightfall the next day before Iseldir returned. Merlin had been lost in thought staring into the fire, but the soft brush of the druids robes against his arm startled him out of it. He blinked up owlishly at Iseldir, the bright imprint of the flames still ghosting across his sight. Iseldir said nothing, instead offering a hand up and leading him away from camp.

Once they were far enough out that the fire no longer reached them, Merlin conjured up his usual blue bubble to light up the path. Iseldir smiled and added one of his own as well, though unlike Merlin’s it was a soft yellow and shone steadily like the sun.

They finally stopped at the banks of a lake and sat looking out at the water. Iseldir brought out a package wrapped in red velvet and passed it to Merlin. Carefully he unwrapped it and found that inside was a large crystal.

“This is the Crystal of Neahtid. Hewn from the Crystal Cave, the birthplace of all magic. Few have the power to wield it. But for those who do, the Crystal has the ability to show you what is, what has been, and what is yet to come.” Iseldir spoke at last. “The druids do not have the answers you seek, perhaps the Crystal may.”

And with that Iseldir left.

Merlin could feel the magic in the crystal, it was so strong he could almost hear it. He felt a sense of foreboding and knew that whatever he might see, it wouldn’t be good. The power of the Crystal was great and as much as Merlin wanted to screw his eyes shut and fling the rock into the lake, the magic drew him in. And eventually he gave in.

An image shimmered in the glass, at first blurry like a heat haze on the horizon but sharpening as Merlin watched. Green. A forest but not one he knew. It seemed odd... warped. Too full of darkness, the trees strangled by vines and fighting each other for space, too close to breathe.

The scene changes. Orange. Dust. Sun scorched earth. A dead plain and at its centre a single pillar of black stone. It rains but not water. Too thick. Blood.

A dark cold room. Pillars and shadows and the sense of being watched. A doll dripping in oil. And screaming, screaming, children screaming!

Tears poured down Merlin’s face and all he wanted to do was drop the crystal and clasp his hands over his ears but his fingers were frozen, gripping hard enough to hurt and the screaming went on and on.

Green. Back to the forest but no. This wasn’t like the last one. This one he knew. This one was... yes, _home_. Mother and Will. His cottage. His river. His trees. But the willow. Where was the willow? In its place was an elm tree. The one from the clearing. The Darkling Woods. Camelot.

Arthur. He’s stood in the Great Hall.  There’s a crown. Arthur is the King. The Once and Future King.

Merlin’s breath caught and at last he was able to unclench his fingers and let the crystal fall to the ground. He dropped his head into his hands and forced himself to take deep breaths until his heart stopped racing.

\---

He didn’t know how long it was before he stopped shaking but when Merlin finally got up and headed back to the camp, it was on the jittery legs of a new born foal.

He crawled into the tent he’d woken up in the first time which he’d later found out actually belonged to one of the group’s healers. Merlin had felt awful about kicking anyone out of their own bed especially when he could make do just as well camped down by the fire with his bed roll, but whenever he had tried to bring it up the druids managed to dismiss it so politely that Merlin found himself at a loss for words.

He regretted not insisting more now as he watched the canvas above him turn from blue to beige. The comforting sight of the stars peeking through the trees might have lulled him to sleep for an hour or two, instead of leaving him to revisit the same images in his mind over and over again all night as was actually the case.

As such it was an exhausted and anxious Merlin that Forridel found sitting a little apart from everyone else as they ate their morning meal, though he did manage to give her a smile when she sat down beside him.

“Fancy going fishing with me?” She asked, deliberately casual.

“Oh, um, I don’t actually know how to fish.”

“Really? I thought you grew up by a river.”

“I did but we didn’t really use it for fishing. We didn’t eat much meat at all really, mostly just vegetables and bread. To be honest my first meal in Camelot was kind of a shock.” Merlin explained and Forridel laughed.

“Well it may not be quite Camelot standards but we do well enough with what we can catch and forage. Come fishing with me anyway, I’ll teach you how to do it.”

Merlin was tired and still had a lot of thinking to do, but taking a step back from everything might be just what he needed and so he let Forridel pull him to his feet and followed her down to the lake.

He felt strangely apprehensive returning to the lake so soon but the feeling of the place was different in the daylight. They didn’t stop at the same piece of shoreline as Iseldir had last night but walked a little further round until they reached a place where the water narrowed into a stream.

Forridel discarded her boots and waded in up to her thighs and Merlin hurried to join her, apprehension forgotten in his excitement at being in the water again. Gaius had a bath back in Camelot but it wasn’t the same, for one thing you could only fit in it by curling into a ball with all your limbs tucked in against your chest.

“So what do we do now?” He asked, looking curiously at the pole they’d stopped next to.

“Well first I’m going to check the lines. If we caught anything overnight it’s probably been picked off by now but it’s always worth checking.”

Forridel pulled on the end of a thin rope which Merlin realised was tied into a notch on the pole. She wrapped the rope up in a loop around her forearm, being careful not to cut herself on the hooks that dangled at even intervals along the line. A couple of times she’d have to stop and remove fish bones, picked neatly clean by an early bird like she’d predicted. She didn’t throw all of them back into the lake however, instead tucking a few into her pocket.

“Good for needles.” She explained at Merlin’s questioning look.

Aside from the bones and some stray reeds the line was empty as it turned out. Forridel dumped it beside her boots and picked up a pair of spears, passing one to Merlin. It was topped with a vicious looking barbed, two pronged spearhead and Merlin hesitated.

Forridel guided him to a shallower spot by the stream where the water was clear enough to see to the bottom and showed him how to grip the spear.

“Remember you’re not trying to kill the fish outright, you’re just trying to hold it on the spearhead. And try not to strike too early or you’ll spook it and it’ll slip away from you.”

Merlin nodded like he had any idea what Forridel was telling him. He wasn’t expecting to actually catch anything, mostly he was just trying to avoid stabbing himself in the foot.

In the end he didn’t maim himself, nor did he catch any fish but he did succeed in getting absolutely soaking wet. Forridel caught a couple but mostly just enjoyed watching him splash around.

“I hear Iseldir showed you the Crystal of Neahtid last night.” Said Forridel and Merlin sobered quickly. “Did you use it?”

“Yes.” Merlin answered quietly.

“It’s true isn’t it. You really are _Emrys_.”

He shrugged, uncomfortable when the tone in her voice edged a little too close to something like awe.

“Everyone seems to think so at least.”

“You never said anything before.”

“Well Mordred was the first person to ever call me Emrys so I didn’t actually know—”

“No, I meant you never said anything about your magic.” Forridel interrupted. “I understand why, obviously in a place like Camelot... but then again why on earth would you of all people come to a city like Camelot?”

“Why did you? Druids aren’t exactly welcome there either.” Merlin pointed out.

“Except I’m not a druid.”

“Oh! I guess I just assumed.”

“It’s a fair assumption.” Forridel conceded. “I don’t actually have any magic ability at all believe it or not. But the druids are good people and they’ve done me many kindnesses before, they just want to live in peace and it is the least I can do to help them in whatever way I can.”

“That sounds like a good way to live.”

“It is.” Forridel agreed. “Perhaps it could be for you too.”

Merlin frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean Merlin that if you wanted to, you could always stay here with us. Leave the royals to their squabbling. After all you are Emrys. You should be with your own people.”

“Oh I couldn’t do that.”

“No? What’s stopping you?”

“My friends are all in Camelot.”

“Your friends. And how many of those friends know who you really are, and what you can do? It’s not as if they could ever understand, not like the people here can. Iseldir told me what you did, how you reached out to Mordred from miles away. Power like that shouldn’t be contained it should be used, nurtured! If you stayed here you’d never have to hide who you are.”

“I’m not hiding who I am.” Merlin protested.

“Really. How many times a day do you have to stop yourself reaching for your magic while you’re acting as the Prince’s dogsbody?”

“I’m not Arthur’s dogsbody!”

“Exactly Merlin.”

Merlin sighed.

“You don’t understand, Arthur asked me to come to Camelot. We’re going to bring magic back to the Kingdom, I have to stay.”

“Who’s to say you can’t do that on your own? You don’t need a Pendragon to help you, you’re stronger than them all.” Forridel insisted.

Merlin didn’t believe that, he was powerful sure, more than most according to everyone else he’d spoken to at least, but that could never be enough. He couldn’t change things on his own, he didn’t know how. Arthur may have been the one to ask for his help but really Merlin needed Arthur just as much as Arthur needed him.

No, it was more than that. Merlin _wanted_ Arthur with him. He missed the cottage, he missed Will and his mother. Life had been simpler then and there had been days when all Merlin had wanted to do was run back home to it. But he couldn’t. Because as he’d come to realise, that wasn’t home anymore.

Home was tripping over piles of Gaius’ books when he was tired after a long day. Home was gossiping with Gwen in the kitchens while they waited for the breakfast plates to be made up. Home was sitting on the side lines while the knights train, and it was Arthur catching his eye after every difficult manoeuvre and every time Merlin would applaud him even as he rolled his eyes. Home was Arthur sighing when Merlin picked food off his plate but always giving up the last slice of venison to him anyway. Home was Arthur buying him a new pair of boots so his feet didn’t fall off when winter arrived.

Home was Arthur. And right now that was where Merlin needed to be.


	10. Chapter 10

The war had begun, and Arthur was on his own. Morgana was back at the castle, safe. His father was waiting at the camp, he was too long in years to lead the army anymore though given half the chance Arthur knew he’d have ridden out with them if his councillors hadn’t argued against it. No, it was up to Arthur to lead now, and he would do so alone. Because Merlin hadn’t come back.

This wasn’t his first battle. The tense silence as they watched the other army approach was not a new experience. He knew how it would go from here, they’d prepared for this, they were as prepared as they could be in the time they’d been given. And the plan was solid he was sure.

Leon was at his right hand side like always, with the rest of the knights directly behind them and Arthur tried to take comfort in that. For a few of them this would be their first live battle, and Arthur had made sure to take each of them aside and talk to them personally before they rode out.

The invading army came to a standstill at the bottom of the hill and looked up to where Camelot’s forces were waiting to meet them. Arthur swept his gaze over the sea of men looking for one face in particular, which he eventually spotted back against the treeline. Cenred’s war horse was heavily armoured but the King wasn’t wearing a helmet himself, nor was the woman next to him, her blonde hair hanging loose over her chainmail. The Enchantress, at last.

Cenred lifted his right arm and the standard-bearer beside him signalled the archers with a call on the war horn.

“Shield wall!” Arthur yelled as a rain of arrows flew towards them.

They’d chosen this position for a reason and their advantage quickly became apparent when the arrows fell short, the few that didn’t easily deflected by the shield wall.

Cenred’s infantry had used the arrows for cover and started to creep uphill but Arthur’s archers were quick to return the favour and the men fell one after the other. More men followed on their heels, the battle fever driving them upwards and over their fallen fellows until they were nearly cresting the hilltop.

Arthur called forth the spearmen and slingshotters and the shield wall opened up to allow them through. Every one of Cenred’s men that had escaped the skill of Camelot’s archers were met with stone and iron instead, and those that didn’t fall back were cut down where they stood.

Cenred called back the remainder of the infantry. They retreated, but the battle was far from over. Seeing the enemy pushed back was tempting and a younger Arthur might have tried to press the advantage, but he knew better now and called for his men to hold their ground.

Things settled into quiet again, though this time it was punctuated by the cries of the wounded, as neither side moved.

Then it was the enchantress’s turn to raise her hand and as one Cenred’s army retreated further until just five lonely hooded figures remained at the base of the hill. The sight of them sent a chill up Arthur’s spine and he immediately went on the offensive.

He called on the archers once more and another shower of arrows descended on the figures, but the only movement the five made was to hold out their hands in front of them. A hiss of a whisper floated up to Arthur and he watched in dread as the arrows suddenly dropped out of the air, landing harmlessly a few paces ahead of where the sorcerer’s stood.

He’d never seen such coordinated and powerful magic before and it confirmed all of his worst fears. There was nothing for it though. Camelot’s only chance of winning this fight was to hold the line and keep the enemy from breaking through, but to do that, first they had to take out the sorcerer’s. And the only way to reach them was head on.

Most of his forces Arthur held back to hold the line, but with another round of arrows for cover Arthur descended on the sorcerer’s with the knights and a hundred men. Unlike Cenred’s rally earlier, Camelot had the advantage of starting uphill and they covered the distance quickly with Arthur and the knights leading the way on horseback.

The sorcerer’s raised their arms again but one of them faltered, clipped by an arrow in the shoulder. They cried out and stumbled backwards but the others made no move to help them. Seeing his chance, Sir Owain raised his spear and with a roar sent it flying towards the injured figure. Instead of dropping from the air like the arrows had, the spear flew straight and embedded itself deep in the sorcerer’s gut. The sorcerer screamed in agony, collapsing in place but still there was no reaction from the other four.

The knights barrelled towards them with their weapons raised and Arthur prepared to swing his sword down against the sorcerer’s neck when he suddenly found himself hitting the ground hard. In a well practiced move he rolled to his feet in the space of a heartbeat and checked his peripherals. The horses had all spooked and each of Arthur’s knights had been tossed to the ground twenty paces ahead of the sorcerer’s. The yells alerted him to the fact that the rest of the men were mere seconds behind them, moving too fast to stop and Arthur had to hook an arm through Leon’s and drag him to his feet before he was run down by his own side.

The men overtook them in the charge and for a while Arthur saw nothing but the glint of metal and was surrounded by a deafening roar as his forces stampeded towards the sorcerer’s. With Leon steady on his feet again, they both added their voices to the battle cry and jumped forward into the mêlée.

Within moments they were upon the four still standing sorcerer’s and magic or no, there was no way four people could stand against one hundred fighting men including Camelot’s finest. Some of Arthur’s men had broken through the sorcerer’s line and were running to engage the rest of Cenred’s forces, and even as Arthur watched Lancelot ran another of the sorcerer’s through with his sword, the blood splattering dark against the mud.

For a moment the bright light of victory seemed within reach but before Arthur could dare to hope for a quick end to the battle, a voice rose up above the clamour and was quickly joined by another, and another.

Lancelot had caught his sorcerer off guard but the other three were doing far better. They were each surrounded on all sides by Arthur’s men but no matter how hard the men fought, none had been able to breach the unseen barrier circling the sorcerer’s. But now it looked like they were tired of playing the defensive, they were ready to attack.

The men who’d broken the line were the first affected and Arthur watched from afar as they each dropped to their knees and began to convulse. Immediately he called for everyone to fall back but it was too late. Arthur could only watch in horror as every one of his men fell to the ground and started clawing desperately at their throats. Some began dragging themselves through the mud and back up the bank. Eyes red and bulging as the air was stolen from their lungs.

Arthur tried to help but he was caught by the spell as well. It felt like vines were wrapped around his chest, squeezing, wringing the life out of him. Black spots danced in front of his eyes and the vines wound tighter and tighter until Arthur wondered why his ribs hadn’t yet shattered under the force of it. He gaped silently screaming for air, starving, desperate but there was no relief even as his eyes rolled back into his head.

It seemed to last an eternity but then just as quickly as it started it stopped. After a full minute of heaving in great, aching lungful’s of air Arthur turned on his side and vomited into the grass. It was only then that he registered the strong pair of hands still gripping him by the shoulders, and as he craned his neck around to see he realised that the rest of the men at the treeline had come and dragged them back up the hill. The spells effects only reached so far it seemed.

Arthur’s head spun as he sat upright and he looked dizzily down at the battlefield. A stone dropped into his stomach as he saw the number of bodies lying in the mud. It had happened so quickly, it shouldn’t be a surprise that so few had been rescued in time.

He blessed the fading of the light for bringing the battle to a natural break where each side could collect their dead and tend to the wounded. As both armies retreated for the night Arthur could only hope he could think of a new battle strategy before morning, or they’d all end up going down to join the dead.

\---

Morgana wrung her hands together, her eyes jumping from shadow to shadow. She shouldn’t be doing this. This was ridiculous, she should just go back to bed. She should _not_ be doing this.

The note on her pillow could have been written by anyone, there was no name after all. It could easily have been some misguided joke. Equally with Camelot at war it might be a ruse to get her on her own by the enemy, it would probably serve her right if it was for being stupid enough to fall for it.

But the note also said they could help Morgana with her secret, and curiosity and fear proved too powerful a motivator and so here she was, having snuck out into the empty courtyard after Gwen had gone to bed, waiting.

A whisper of fabric alerted her to the presence of someone else and Morgana closed her hand over the handle of her dagger as she turned to face them. But when the stranger pulled back their hood her fingers went limp.

It was the woman from her dreams.

“Hello Morgana.” Said the woman. Her hands held placidly in front of her.

“It’s you.”

“You know me.”

It wasn’t spoken like a question but Morgana answered anyway.

“In my dreams. My nightmares.”

“I see you in my dreams too.” Said the woman with a smile. “My name is Morgause.”

“And you left the note?”

Morgause nodded.

“So you know about me? About my..."

“Yes.” She said, stepping closer. “And I can help you if you’ll let me.”

Morgana took a step back, hand tightening on the dagger again.

“Why would you want to help me?”

“Because I am like you, in more ways than one.” Said Morgause, and with a whispered word her eyes turned gold and a bright orange flame appeared in the palm of her hand. “You don’t need to be afraid of your power Morgana. It is a gift.”

Morgana flinched, her eyes prickling with tears and she shook her head.

“No, no this is no gift. This power or whatever you want to call it. The things I see, the pain and the death every time I close my eyes I see it, and you call it a gift?”

“It can be a burden that is true, but cannot the same be said for every kind of power. Besides I have a gift of my own for you, something to ease your suffering.” Morgause removed the bracelet from her wrist and held it out to Morgana, who after a moment of hesitation took it.

“It’s beautiful.” She murmured, running her fingers along the gold insignia. The symbol looked familiar but she couldn’t place it.

“It belonged to my mother. It is a healing bracelet. It will help you sleep.”

“Oh I can’t possibly take it.”

“Please. I want you to have it.” Morgause reassured. Clasping it around Morgana’s wrist herself.

“But you said it was your mother’s.” Morgana protested.

“And it was. She gave it to me for protection, and as a reminder of who I am and where I came from. It was her gift to me, but she had already given me the greatest gift she could. My magic. And it seems that is a gift she gave us both.”

“I don’t understand.”

Morgause took her hands in hers and smiled, eyes shining with tears.

“My mother’s name was Lady Vivienne, wife of King Gorlois. Morgana, I am your sister!”

\---

The only thought in Merlin’s head as he raced through the woods was that he had to get back to Arthur.

After his talk with Forridel he’d gone back to camp and started packing up his things. Forridel had arrived back soon after him and by the time Merlin ducked out of his borrowed tent, she was deeply engaged in a hushed but passionate argument with Iseldir.

Merlin couldn’t hear what they were saying but the set of Forridel’s jaw and her clenched fists gave her a passing resemblance to Morgana whenever Arthur had been winding her up too much.

He’d spotted Mordred sat by the fire and went over to say his goodbyes.

“They’re arguing about you.” Said Mordred without looking up from where he was drawing pictures in the ashes.

“Me?”

“She thinks you should stay. He says you need to go.” Mordred explained. “He’s right.”

“He is?” Asked Merlin quietly.

Mordred looked up then and met Merlin’s eyes.

“You saved my life.”

“I heard you calling.” Merlin smiled.

“Now he’s the one calling. You need to save Arthur’s life.”

Merlin’s breath caught.

“Arthur. I have to go now. Will you tell the others thank you and goodbye for me?”

Mordred nodded and smiled.

_Emrys!_

He called just as Merlin reached the edge of the clearing.

_Please tell Morgana we will meet again someday._

_I will._

Merlin promised before hurrying away.

It was dark before he spotted the white canvas and torches of the Camelot camp through the trees at last. He couldn’t say for sure how he’d found his way through the woods, although when his hand brushed against the soft cloth of Gaius’ gift in his pocket he might have had an inkling.

For a while Merlin let himself just stop and catch his breath. He hadn’t rested for more than a moment or two since he’d left the druid camp, his fear driving him onwards, and now his heart was thumping like a jack rabbit. He tried to calm himself but he knew he wouldn’t be able to relax until he had Arthur, whole and well, in front of him once more.

He’d barely taken two steps into the camp when a guard blocked his path.

“Oi! What do you think you’re doing out here?”

“I need to see the Prince. Where’s Arthur?” Merlin gasped out.

The guard scowled suspiciously and Merlin’s eyes widened in fear when his hand moved to unsheathe his sword.

“I haven’t seen you around here before. What it is you want with Prince Arthur, eh?” He growled.

Merlin backed up as the guard advanced, struggling to come up with anything.

“Merlin?” A voice interrupted and Merlin sagged in relief when he saw its owner.

“Lancelot!”

The guard left at a nod from the knight though not without one last suspicious glare at Merlin over his shoulder.

“Merlin what are you doing here? Not that it’s not good to see you but Arthur said you’d left.”

“I did. I went to ask the druids for help but I need to see Arthur now. Can you take me to him?”

“Of course, this way.” Said Lancelot, leading Merlin through the camp with a hand on his shoulder.

On their way they passed by a cart full of strange long objects covered over with a white cloth. He frowned trying to work out what they were when he saw the glint of metal peeking out from under the sheet and quite suddenly recognised the shape of bodies, lined up and unmoving on the back of the cart.

With a pang Merlin realised he’d missed the start of the fighting, and clearly Camelot hadn’t made it through unscathed. His worry for Arthur rose another notch.

They reached a tent near the centre of the camp and found Sir Leon talking with the guard stationed by the entrance.

“Leon.” Lancelot called.

“Lancelot. And Merlin, shouldn’t you be back at the castle?” Asked Leon, turning towards them.

“He needs to talk to Arthur. Is he in there?” Lancelot nodded towards the tent.

“Yes. Actually it’s good you’re here Merlin, maybe you can convince him to get some rest before dawn.” Leon said, clapping Merlin on the shoulder.

“I’ll do my best.” Merlin quipped and ducked inside.

Arthur was facing away from him when he entered, examining the map laid over the stool by his bed roll.

“Don’t say a word Leon, I’m just going over it one more time before bed.” Arthur said, sounding tired and frustrated.

Even so Merlin found himself grinning at the back of his head.

“Not Leon, only me.”

Arthur jumped in surprise and spun to face him.

“Merlin!”

\---

Morgana stood in shock and watched Morgause, her _sister_ , slip away again.

Morgause had said more after the revelation. Promises, assurances of what would happen after the war. She’d said they could be together, that she’d teach Morgana everything she knew. That between the two of them they would reshape the land into one of their own making, where they would be free, where they would be celebrated.

Morgana wanted to be free, she didn’t want to be scared of herself anymore, scared of what she could do. Morgause might be able to give her that but at what cost?

After the war she had said, after Camelot lost, after _Arthur_ had lost.

The thought sent a shiver up Morgana’s spine and quite suddenly she came back to herself and raced back to her chambers. She bumped the table with her hip as she went to swap her pumps for riding boots and Gwen came out to investigate just as Morgana was pulling them on.

“Morgana?”

“Gwen!”

“Are you alright, what are you doing?” Gwen asked, holding a candle up to illuminate the room.

Boots on and buckled Morgana stood and took Gwen by the shoulders.

“I need to go to the battle camp, I have to talk to Arthur.”

“My Lady, it’s the middle of the night, you should be resting.”

“This can’t wait, I have to go now.” Morgana insisted.

“The stables are locked Morgana, and the horses are all with the army. Why don’t you ask the King in the morning?”

“No that will be too late, and you know Uther would never let me go. Besides they haven’t taken my horse or Uther’s. You’re right about the stables though but there’s no time! I’ll figure it out on the way.”

Gwen blew out the candle as Morgana opened the door, leaving them both in only the dim light of the moon.

“Then I’m coming with you.” She said.

“Gwen I’m not asking you to do that.”

“I know but if it’s as important as you say then we don’t have time to argue, we need to get going.” Gwen asserted. “And as it happens I have access to the servant’s quarters and I know where the stable master keeps the keys.”

Morgana hugged her in gratitude and after a tense expedition via the servant’s quarters, they were both soon cantering out of the citadel and into the woods.

It wasn’t difficult to find the camp, Camelot’s armies weren’t small after all and the trail they left behind was clear enough a blind man could follow it. Still even on horseback it took the pair of them a fair few hours to reach the place, and Morgana became more anxious with every passing minute.

She didn’t even have a clear plan of what to do once they reached Arthur. Tell him about Morgause of course but beyond that, she wasn’t sure if that would even help. Maybe she’d throw herself onto the battlefield, trust that Morgause wouldn’t kill her own sister or at least delay her long enough to give Camelot an advantage. She’d think of something. She _had_ to think of something.

“Guinevere! And my Lady Morgana.” Cried a knight in surprise as they dismounted.

“Lancelot.” Answered Gwen with a smile.

Sir Lancelot bowed to Morgana in greeting and kissed the back of Gwen’s hand, which Morgana noted with a smirk left her friend blushing.

“Where is Arthur, I must speak with him.” Said Morgana, back to the matter at hand.

“He’s in his tent, talking to Merlin my Lady.”

“Merlin’s here?” Said Gwen in surprise.

“Arrived just before you did.” Explained Lancelot. “I’ll go and get the Prince for you my Lady, you’re welcome to wait in my tent while I let Arthur know you’re here.”

“Thank you Sir Lancelot.” Accepted Morgana gratefully.

“Why don’t you rest your eyes my Lady. You’ve barely slept in days.” Suggested Gwen, taking a seat on the floor by the cot with no chairs available.

“No, no I need to talk to Arthur.”

“I’ll wake you when he arrives. Just a few minutes Morgana, please.”

Morgana deflated, the restless nights and mad dash through the woods were indeed catching up to her to the point that her bones felt heavy. Relenting she lay down on top of the neatly made up cot and took Gwen’s hand in hers.

“You do take care of me Gwen.” She said fondly. “Just a few minutes?”

“Just a few minutes.” Promised Gwen, squeezing her hand once before letting go.

\---

“Merlin!”

“Arthur.” Merlin grinned.

“You came back.” Arthur said in disbelief.

“Of course I did. I promised didn’t I? I’m only sorry I took so long.”

Arthur smiled softly.

“I suppose I thought, you might—”

“Stay with the druids? Forridel invited me to.”

“...Oh?” Said Arthur, avoiding looking at Merlin directly.

“Hm. I was surprised to see her actually. You never told me she went with Mordred after everything.”

“Must have slipped my mind.”

“Hm.” Merlin said again. Amused at Arthur’s discomfort. “Did you miss me?”

“What? Please, I barely noticed you were gone.” Arthur scoffed.

“I wouldn’t have blamed you, you know. If you had chosen to stay. I know you miss your home.” He added more seriously after a pause.

Merlin smiled.

“I miss my mother, and I miss Will. And I suppose I did miss home, even if I was only away from it for a few days.”

Arthur frowned in confusion and looked up as Merlin came to stand in front of him.

“In fact every time I thought about home. It wasn’t the cottage I was thinking about.”

“What do you mean?” Asked Arthur, his voice barely more than a murmur.

“I mean that while I was out there with the druids I realised something. Something so stupidly obvious that I can’t believe it took me this long to see it.”

“Is that really a surprise?” Arthur smirked to which Merlin rolled his eyes.

“I realised that the cottage hasn’t been home to me for a while now. And even if I did go back there it wouldn’t feel right, unless you were there with me.”

“Merlin...” Arthur whispered in shock. They were standing so close that Merlin felt the breath on his skin and still he leaned closer.

His eyes were just about to flutter closed when a hot spike of power ran up his spine making Merlin jerk backwards.

Before Arthur could ask what happened a shout rose up from outside the tent.

“ _Fire!”_

The pair sprinted outside to see that the far corner of the camp was alive with angry orange flames and billowing black smoke and the fire was spreading fast.

They both ran towards it, Arthur calling out orders to each one of his men they passed to get everyone cleared out of the tents and helping to get the blaze under control.

As they got closer they found Leon had already started organising the knights and Arthur thanked the stars that his men were so capable, no matter the situation.

Arthur’s heart was in his throat however when he turned his head and found that Merlin was no longer beside him but instead running directly into the burning camp. With a strangled yell he ran after him, ducking and diving over flaming canvas and collapsing tent poles. The heat was so intense he could feel the moisture being sucked out of his mouth on every breath.

Eventually up ahead he saw Merlin escaping through a break in the flames and into the trees and he rushed to follow him.

He tried shouting his name but his mouth was too dry and the words got choked off in his throat and left him coughing. By the time he got his breath back Merlin had disappeared out of sight.


	11. Chapter 11

It was only a moment after Morgana’s head touched the pillow that her breath had evened out into sleep. Gwen couldn’t help but feel relieved, even if it was just a handful of minutes, any amount of uninterrupted rest would do her Lady good.

She still wasn’t sure what it was exactly they were doing here, or what Morgana could have discovered that was so important that Prince Arthur had to hear about it in the middle of the night. But Gwen knew Morgana well enough to know that there was no stopping her once she’d made a decision to do something, and all that was left to do was stay close and try to help if things went wrong.

She was glad it was Lancelot they’d first run into. Some of the younger knights tended to get flustered around Morgana and the older knights would no doubt have tried to persuade them to go straight home, either way Morgana wouldn’t have reacted well.

Gwen thought about what Lancelot had said about Merlin being here. It worried her. When she’d missed seeing him in the kitchens two days in a row she’d asked Gaius, who told her that Merlin had gone to stay with his mother until after the battle with Cenred was over. A small part of her had been hurt that he hadn’t said goodbye before leaving, but with everyone so busy preparing she supposed Merlin might well have not had the time to track her down before he had to go.

Another part of her was surprised that he’d even agreed to go, knowing how devoted to Arthur he was, Gwen would have expected him to refuse to leave Arthur’s side. It seemed in the end that she was right about that, she only hoped Merlin wouldn’t do anything silly like try and join them on the battlefield. But then again Arthur was just as devoted to Merlin as he was to him, so there was no way the Prince would let Merlin put himself in danger like that, surely.

It felt like Gwen had been waiting a while and she wondered how much longer it would be before Lancelot returned with the Prince. She was thinking about poking her head out to see if she could spot them when she heard a strange sound, like a rush of wind outside the tent, followed by a shout of alarm.

She stepped out to see what was happening and narrowly avoided being knocked down by a group of guards racing past, all headed towards a tent on the edge of camp that had somehow caught fire. The flames had already started spreading to the surrounding tents but Gwen didn’t stay to watch, instead rushing back inside to wake Morgana.

“Morgana, my Lady wake up, we need to get out of here, please, _Morgana!”_ Gwen yelled, shaking her by the arm.

Morgana was pale and breathing rapidly. Her hands clenched and unclenched and every now and then she let out a soft whimper, almost inaudible under the crackle of the fire and shouting going on outside.

Gwen yelled her name again, shaking her arm harder and even tried lifting her off the cot in desperation but Morgana was stuck in one of her nightmares and wouldn’t wake.

The crackle outside was getting louder as the fire spread, it would reach them soon and not knowing what else to do, Gwen grasped Morgana’s wrists ready to drag her to safety. The moment her hand closed around Morgana’s bracelet however she felt a searing pain and let go in shock. Gwen stared in horror at her red blistered palm where the metal had burned her and then looked back at the bracelet where it lay innocuously on Morgana’s wrist.

Now that she thought about it, Gwen realised she’d never seen anything like it before in Morgana’s jewellery collection, in fact she’d never seen it before this night. It wasn’t burning her wrist like it had Gwen’s hand but who knew what else an object like that might be doing to her. She needed to get it away from Morgana. Right now.

Grabbing the blanket from the cot, she wrapped it around her hands, being mindful of her injured palm, and grabbed hold of the bracelet. It wouldn’t come off easily and the heat of it was still enough to hurt even through the blanket. Still Gwen forced herself to hold on until finally she could pry it open enough to slip it off Morgana’s wrist and throw it, blanket and all, into the far corner of the tent.

Morgana woke up with a gasp, and her eyes rolled around wildly before they settled on Gwen.

“Gwen!”

“Morgana.” Gwen sighed in relief.

“What happened to your hands?”

“Never mind that my Lady we need to go now!” She said hurrying to the tent entrance.

“What’s happening?” Asked Morgana.

Gwen didn’t need to answer though as she pulled open the tent flap and they both looked out onto a world on fire.

Every tent around them had burnt down to the struts but Gwen didn’t have time to wonder why there’s was untouched. There was a ripping sound behind her and she turned to see Morgana had torn a piece off the bottom of her dress.

“Here.” Said Morgana, passing it to Gwen and tearing off another piece for herself. “For the smoke.”

Gwen nodded and held it over her nose and mouth with her good hand, keeping her burnt one protectively against her chest.

“Keep low and don’t stop.” Ordered Morgana, and together they took off sprinting through the burning camp and towards the safety of the trees.

They ducked and dodged around collapsing tent poles, the smoke stinging at their eyes. Gwen could only see what was right in front of her, everything beyond that was a wall of flames. The air was so hot it settled heavy in her lungs and left her gasping even as she ran.

They weren’t that far from the edge of camp and soon enough there were shouts as the men spotted them and came to help.

Gwen’s eyes were watering so badly she couldn’t see, but just before she could stumble and fall she felt strong arms against her back and under her knees, lifting and carrying her to safety. Once whoever it was had lain her down on the forest floor they left again.

“Morgana?” Gwen called out, reaching around blindly with her good hand.

Morgana caught it and held it tightly.

“It’s alright Gwen. I’m here. We made it.”

\---

As Merlin chased after the sorcerer’s, his only thought was that he had to end it tonight, one way or another.

He kept his eyes fixed on the silhouettes of the three cloaked figures up ahead and ignored the burning in his legs. His feet remembered how to parse the uneven forest floor for all that it had been some time since Merlin last ran through the woods in the dark. But they served him well now and he was quickly closing the distance, sure-footed in a way he never was outside of the trees.

He finally caught up to them as they reached the clearing. The clearing of course, it all came back to the clearing.

“Wait, please just stop!” Merlin yelled, and to his relief the sorcerer’s did just that.

They turned as one and in the grey light of the half moon, Merlin finally was able to look upon their faces for the first time. There was an older woman, a man, and Merlin’s heart clenched to see the third one was a boy probably only a few years younger than himself.

These were the people he had been trying so hard to save. The ones that he and his mother had spent his whole life hiding to escape from becoming. People like him.

Merlin held his hands out non-threateningly and edged towards them one step at a time.

“I just want to help you.”

“We don’t need your help boy.” Said the woman dismissively.

“I know—I know you think that but it’s not really _you_. It’s the woman, the Enchantress, she’s controlling you!”

“He’s talking nonsense. We should kill him and be done with it.” Spat the man.

“No! No please, you have to believe me. I saw what she did to you, I saw the black tower, I heard the screaming. Please just try and remember who you were before Cenred and his men took you away. You probably all have families and friends out there still hoping to see you again. You were probably just trying to live your life like everyone else until Cenred stole you from your loved ones and handed you over to that enchantress, to be twisted into killers. But that’s not who you are, and deep down I know you didn’t want to set that fire and you don’t want to hurt people.”

You’re under an enchantment but if you fight it, if you just hold on I swear I will find a way to break it but you have to _fight_!” Merlin begged.

“We are under no enchantment.” Intoned the boy, and without a change of expression he flung out his hand and yelled out “ _Forbærne! Ácwelle!”_

A ball of flame shot towards Merlin who instinctively threw his magic out to stop it with a push of his palm.

“Well, well. Isn’t this intriguing.” Smirked the woman. “A sorcerer helping the Pendragon filth. You’re either a fool, a traitor, or under your own enchantment.”

“We should take him to the Lady Morgause.” Said the boy.

“No, please listen to me, I just—” Merlin was choked off mid-sentence when caught off guard, he was thrown backwards through the air, landing hard enough to have the wind knocked out of him. Before he could catch his breath again an invisible vice closed around his throat.

Through streaming eyes he saw all three of the sorcerer’s were muttering the same incantation and suddenly the force around his neck was moving and spreading like roots through his body. It loosened up around his neck enough that he could breathe but there was no time to feel relieved as the sorcerer’s magic pulled tighter and tighter, until it felt like Merlin’s skin was ready to tear apart. He put his head back and screamed.

\---

Arthur’s blood ran cold when he heard it. The noise sounded like it had been ripped out of Merlin and images of blood flashed unbidden through his mind.

He stopped while he was still hidden by the treeline. His training and experience telling him to assess the situation even if all he wanted to do was rush in. Anything to stop the wretched sound of pain coming from Merlin as he writhed on the ground at the feet of the sorcerer’s.

Alone against three sorcerer’s meant surprise was Arthur’s only advantage. He skirted the edge of the clearing until he was just a few paces away from the big one on the right, just in time to hear the man announce to his companions.

“Morgause will have no use for this runt. Let’s stop playing and kill him.”

Red bleeding into the edge of his vision, Arthur leapt out of the shadow of the trees and had his sword buried in the man’s back almost before he’d finished speaking.

As he yanked the blade free and span ready to cut down the next one he distantly registered a shriek, separate from Merlin’s screaming, and before he could raise his sword fully up he felt a familiar crushing sensation wrap around his chest and squeeze.

He staggered and fell, just barely keeping a grip on his sword as once again the breath was stolen from his lungs. His other hand came up to grasp at his throat, even knowing it was useless. Looking up he met the eyes of the sorceress and saw the hatred in her gaze, but all Arthur felt was a sudden wave of sadness for the both of them.

\---

Merlin felt the sudden drop in pressure of the spell and through his streaming eyes he glimpsed the flash of moonlight on blond hair and silver armour.

The spell slipped again and Merlin wrestled back enough control to stop screaming, though his ragged breaths still echoed loudly in his skull.

Just about managing to lift his head he watched in horror as Arthur fell. He watched him gape silently and claw desperately at his throat. He saw his face turn purple, the tendons in his neck bulge under the skin. He saw Arthur turn and lock eyes with him and he saw the fear, the sadness, and the _pain_. And then he felt something familiar.

A kernel of warmth that was always tucked away inside him but growing now quickly, bigger and bigger. Rippling through his body and chasing out all traces of the spell as easily as a flood uproots a sapling. He heard a roaring in his ears as he got to his feet and the world slowed down around him.

It felt like it had when he’d sent the message to Mordred through the trees. Vast. Perhaps infinite. Glorious and terrifying. But this time he didn’t feel as though he might get swept away by it, this time he was a part of it. From the earth beneath his feet to the air around him, they were threaded together as neatly as his mother’s weaving. And everything was painted gold and green in the colours of magic.

With a flick of the wrist he snapped the strands of the woman’s spell wrapped around Arthur’s chest and the woman staggered back in shock. The boy was still repeating the incantation, his face twisting in fear and anger when it kept failing.

Merlin’s gaze turned towards the beautiful old wych elm tree and smiled. He knew what to do.

He lifted his hands and let the magic flow towards the sorcerer’s and like a wave it engulfed them.

\---

Arthur looked on in awe as both the woman and the boy seemed to fall asleep where they stood. And then they began to glow. There was an earthy creaking and starting at their feet, they were carefully wrapped in what looked like bark. Branches sprouted from the tops of their heads and fanned out, stretching up to the sky. It could only have lasted a few minutes but once it was over two new trees were standing in the centre of the clearing.

He was only able to pull his gaze away when a soft thump came from behind him. Arthur scrambled to his feet and rushed over to wear Merlin had collapsed in a heap.

“Merlin! Merlin are you alright?”

Merlin grunted as Arthur cradled his head...

“I feel like I could sleep for a week. Don’t think I’ll be doing that again any time soon.” He muttered.

“Of course, just rest, I’ve got you.” Arthur hurried to reassure. ”... Well actually first, what _is_ it you did exactly? Are they dead?”

“What? No!” Merlin croaked. Sounding thoroughly exhausted. “It’s like I’ve been telling you Arthur, what I tried to tell them. That woman hurt them, twisted them into her puppets, but I can still save them.”

“... By turning them into trees.” Arthur said sceptically.

Merlin rolled his eyes but he was smiling.

“I bought myself time. I gave them to the trees and at least this way they won’t hurt anyone until I can undo the enchantment.”

Arthur looked back at the trees warily.

“So they’re alive in there?”

Merlin followed his gaze and looked up into the branches with a peaceful smile.

“They’re sleeping. I’ll wake them up eventually and they can go home to their families, but until then the trees will keep them safe.”

Arthur was quiet for a while, replaying everything over in his mind again. Hearing Merlin screaming all he’d wanted to do was wipe the cause of it from the face of the earth, he had done to one of them. But even after they’d hurt him, even after they’d tried to kill the both of them, Merlin still had hope for the sorcerer’s. Still looked for the goodness.

It was something people would always try and take advantage of but as Arthur looked down at this beautiful, forgiving creature that had stumbled into his life and saved it over and over again, he vowed that as long as he lived the day would never come that he’d allow anyone to take away Merlin’s hope.

He was drawn from his thoughts when a hand pressed against his cheek.

“I’m glad you’re alright.” Merlin murmured.

“Me too. Though when we get back to Camelot we really should talk about this habit you’ve got of running headfirst into danger Merlin.”

“Like you’re one to talk.”

“I’m a knight, that’s more or less my job.” Arthur pointed out.

“I know. You protect the ones you love. And you’re not the only one.”

Arthur parted his lips but the words got lost on his tongue when he saw the soft expression on Merlin’s face.

“I meant what I said before Arthur.” Merlin said, his thumb gently tracing the line of Arthur’s cheekbone. “I’m not home without you with me, and I’ll be happy to be by your side until the day I die.”

A tear escaped from the corner of his eye but Arthur paid it no mind, instead he did what he’d been waiting to do for far too long now and pressed his lips to Merlin’s, and let the kiss say everything he couldn’t find the words to say.

\---

Half the camp had gone up in smoke before they’d got the blaze under control, although they’d lost several men to the fire who hadn’t escaped in time. Still that was fewer than they would have lost had the battle gone ahead as planned.

Arthur and Merlin had hurried back only to receive a report from the scout sent to watch Cenred’s movements, who announced that the enemy army was already packing up and leaving. As expected without his magical backup Cenred was quick to cut his losses. Even weakened by the sorcerer’s sabotage, Camelot was a force to be reckoned with and for all that Cenred was a cruel, conniving, tyrant, he wasn’t stupid.

The injured were patched up and sent ahead with the news of the victory, while Arthur coordinated with the knights to salvage what they could of the wreckage, and men were sent out to try and corral the horses that had bolted into the woods.

Arthur’s horse, as loyal and steadfast as her rider, had naturally stayed close to camp and she was found almost immediately much to Arthur’s relief. He was exhausted. The fire in his belly that had been keeping him going for so long was almost burnt out, and he didn’t think he had the energy to walk back to the castle, especially if he had to carry Merlin who’d been dead to the world since they’d returned from the clearing. Not that Arthur could blame him.

He’d determinedly ignored the raised eyebrow Leon had given him as the knight had helped prop a snoring Merlin up in the saddle in front of him. If Leon didn’t already know him well enough to see through his best attempt at acting regal and unaffected, the fact that Merlin instantly began nestling back into Arthur’s shoulder was enough to shatter the illusion.

Merlin only started to stir as they were riding across the drawbridge, his eyes were still half closed as Arthur guided him down off the horse in what was more a controlled slide than a proper dismounting.

Still Arthur held Merlin back before he could go and find a proper bed to lie in.

“Merlin, there is one more thing I forgot to ask you.” He said softly.

“Hmm?” Said Merlin.

“It’s actually something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while. But I guess I never found the right moment until now.”

Merlin fought against the heaviness of his eyelids and concentrated on what Arthur was saying.

“Of course, what is it?”

“Well, um. What you said back there, about wanting to be with me, I feel the same way. And, well I’d like to make it official.”

“Arthur?” Merlin gasped.

“And so Merlin, I would like to ask you, if you would do me the great honour, of becoming my manservant.”

Merlin’s face split into a grin to match Arthur’s and tears pricked at his eyes as he giggled.

“Arthur. The honour would be mine.”

 

THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, OK. So this is the end! Thank you so much to everyone who has given comments, kudos, and bookmarked. I've had a far greater response to this story than I ever could have expected and I am so grateful to everyone who's stuck with me these past months. For anyone who's disappointed about the ending, I am planning a sequel! But it might be a while coming as I have a couple other story ideas bouncing around at the moment. But until then, thank you everyone.


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